Born to the Blood
by Jerathai
Summary: In the early days of the X-Men an unknown young mutant was assassinated at the very gates of Xavier's School for the Gifted. Or was she?
1. Phone Call

Professor Xavier entered his personal quarters at the end of a tiring but satisfying day. He dumped his physics and literature textbooks on a convenient bookshelf just inside the door. _Monday's lesson plan can wait until tomorrow._ He grasped the doorknob with one hand and pulled the door shut, using the other automatically to maneuver his wheelchair out of the way as it obediently closed.

Charles Francis Xavier was the founder, owner, and headmaster of Xavier's School for the Gifted in upstate New York. Children from all over the world resided in the family mansion that he had put to use as an institute for learning. To the public, the rural campus was simply a school for special children. In reality, those children were more special than most realized – they were, one and all, mutants.

The first few "special children" had appeared just over fifty years ago. For reasons that no one could discover, they were born 'different'. In Xavier's case, he had been born with the gift of telepathy so powerful that he was nearly without peer. Unfortunately, an exploding mine that he encountered during military service robbed him of his ability to walk.

While acquiring an Oxford education (and accent), he became increasingly troubled by the growing fear and persecution of "mutants" – those born with special gifts, like himself. When the first incidents of violence occurred, he knew that humanity would self-destruct unless mutants and non-mutants could be reconciled to each other.

Charles retired to his ancestral home and began seeking out mutants who were young enough to have avoided the cynical intolerance that had claimed many his own age, but were old enough to be trained as a special-tactics strike force that could be utilized to stop the increasing number of incidents that threatened human-mutant peace. One by one, Professor Xavier gathered and trained the X-Men.

Tonight, however, such incidents were blessedly far from Charles' mind. The usual routine of lesson plans, homework, and tactical training took a distant second place to the fact that he was expecting a phone call. A long distance phone call. A very, _very_ long distance phone call.

He wheeled his chair to his specially built desk. A computer keyboard slid out from under the tabletop at the touch of a button. A couple of commands caused the blotter on the desk to smoothly lift itself on a hinged edge to reveal a large flat screen computer monitor. It lit up, and he logged on to the workstation. Oddly shaped characters flowed across the screen, forming words in a language unknown to any native Earth culture. After a few seconds, the screen went blank. Then it lit to show what appeared to be a woman's face – except that this woman had fine short feathers instead of hair and a delicate tracery of artwork across her cheekbones.

The woman on the monitor reached out with her hand, to lay it flat on the communications panel at her end and spoke his name lovingly. "Charles." Behind the woman on the screen was a collection of artwork that was - literally – alien to him. For the woman on the screen was light-years in distance away. The Professor covered the open palm on the monitor with his own hand, returning the gesture and the greeting. "Lillandra, my wife."

They were quiet for a few moments, just enjoying the sight of each other. Then Charles drew his fingers lovingly over the image of her cheek and quietly asked, "Nothing?" He knew the answer anyway, but watched as she shook her head and quietly replied, "No." Lillandra of Clan Neramani, Majestrix of the Shi'ar Galactic Empire, smiled sadly at her consort. Xavier had returned to Earth from a rare visit to the Imperial throne world only a fortnight ago. She'd gone through her cycle during his stay, and they hoped – as they'd been hoping for years. But to no avail.

The Empress sighed. "The Great Festival is in six months. I'll be able to get away as soon as I've attended the opening ceremonies. I'll need to be back for the closing ceremony, but that should give me more than ten days to be with you, not counting travel time. My ship will arrive in Earth orbit early on the third day." Charles smiled at his wife fondly. "I'll plan on it."

It had been four years since they had exchanged marriage vows in the High Temple on Chandilar, Lillandra's homeworld – over the objections of many. The Shi'ar weren't - quite -xenophobic, but they weren't too far from it. Most of them regarded other life forms inferior and incapable of intelligence or true civilization.

The Shi'ar had been scandalized by their Majestrix' exchange of consort vows with a Terran. The marriage had been one of the very few times Lillandra had pushed through a decree backed solely by the weight of her personality and office. Much of her personal political coin had been spent in that action.

Because Xavier would not abandon his mission of human-mutant peace, and the Majestrix was rarely able to escape the throne world, Chandilar, their time together was little and infrequent. This contributed greatly to another problem. Charles and Lillandra were childless.

For other couples the situation would have been of less importance. For the galactic ruler to be without an heir was disastrous. Many Shi'ar saw their childlessness as a direct sign of their gods' disapproval of the union, so Lillandra had a religious situation on her hands as well.

Lillandra's parents had given the Empire three children. D'ken had been the only male. He had been consumed by his desire for ultimate power, and had died as a result of nearly achieving it.

The only alternative heir to Lillandra's throne was her older sister Deathbird, a woman who made Hitler look like Santa Claus.

So far, Deathbird had been uninterested in the responsibilities of the throne, even to the point of abdicating it, as she was the elder of the two. She was convinced that her sister would never bear children by her consort, which left her in the position of being the only blood-heir available. As long as she avoided being publicly declared a traitor or getting herself killed, she enjoyed all the power of being the heir to the Imperial House. She loved testing the limits, though. With no alternate Heir in sight, Lillandra's only alternative to her sister was civil war between the high nobles, who would fight for the appointment. Deathbird therefore had a great deal of latitude for her pleasures.

The Shi'ar nobles were equally adept at smelling blood in the water. One of the greatest regrets that Xavier had regarding these "telephone calls" was that they were sure to be intercepted. Espionage and politicking were rife in the Empire; there were many who made a living by selling whatever they found out to the highest bidder.

It was incredibly frustrating to both of them to have to confine their conversations to inconsequentials, common news, and coded sentences. It made their separation all the worse. He touched the screen. "I keep wondering if this is what it's like for non-telepaths." His fingertips gently skimmed the image of his wife's forehead. "I see you. You respond to my words. But when I reach out to you with my mind, I can't sense you there." Lillandra shared his disappointment. "If anything, I have more pity for couples like your Doctor Gray and Mr. Summers. I can't imagine how she feels – reaching out and touching him, but never being touched in return. I can't think of a more hideous torture for a telepath."

Xavier sighed. That wasn't the only issue besetting his two oldest students, but it was a significant one. It was difficult; to be so concerned about both of them and yet leave them alone to work it out by themselves went against the grain. They were both adults though – frighteningly powerful adults, both of them. _If they are going to make their relationship work, then this is only one of many things they will need to address, I'm afraid,_ he thought to himself. He shook off those thoughts; time spent with Lillandra (even by 'phone') was too precious to allow distractions to claim his attention and he turned back gratefully to his wife's image on the monitor.


	2. Hunted

Of all the X-Men at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, Ororo Munroe – also called Storm, for her mutant power over weather – was perhaps the one who minded security monitoring the least. The others mostly griped good naturedly about spending six hours doing nothing but staring at a dozen TV screens. To Ororo, riding shotgun over the complacent monitors had a lot in common with herding the placid half-wild cattle on the African savannas of her youth. In any case, she much preferred a long, boring monitor shift to the deadly emergencies that occupied the X-Men all too often.

In midafternoon, an out of place movement on one of the monitors took the watch out of the former category. Storm was accustomed to seeing various vehicles approach the main gates from Greymalkin Lane, but it was highly unusual to see a person stagger out of the brushy woods that lined the lonely country road. Ororo immediately zoomed the security camera in to get a better look at the stranger.

A young woman in her late teens grasped a slim tree near the road's edge as if her life depended on it. Her disheveled, ripped, and bloodstained clothing was enough cause for concern, but when Storm got a better look at the youngster, the situation went from bad to worse. Sweat-soaked hair and flushed skin betrayed raging fever. Terror in the illness-dulled eyes and a desperate lurching run that ended with her sprawled on hands and knees after four meters meant Ororo's monitor shift had seen the day move quite definitively into the second category.

The girl staggered to her feet with the help of another tree, and closed her eyes. Storm was reaching for the button that would alert the on-duty security person when the teen stepped away from the tree. A gunshot rang out simultaneously. Horrified, Ororo saw the girl's body slammed forward and dropped into the road by the impact of a high-caliber bullet.

Instead of the security call, Storm's fisted hand hit the larger general-alert. Her urgent voice was transmitted throughout the school. "Code Blue at the main gate. Shots fired. Dr. Gray to the infirmary immediately. Repeat. Code Blue at the main gate. Shots fired. Dr. Gray to the infirmary immediately." "Blue" was shorthand for an unknown mutant in trouble.

Wolverine's voice responded as soon as the page ended. "I'm on it – nearly there." Indeed, he appeared on Storm's monitor before he finished speaking. Storm gratefully punched another button on her console. "Opening main gate."

The mutant known as Wolverine had angled his approach to the driveway so that he got a good view of the scene well in advance of his arrival. _Dammit. Figures Rogue'd get sick when she's supposed to pull security patrol duty._ He saw the unmoving body first. _Whoever nailed the kid can't be far behind – too much cover around here for a distance shot._ He tapped his communications badge while he was still running. "Storm, give me a crowd. Maybe we can scare off the shooter."

Obligingly, Ororo turned a dial on the vast security console. Hidden speakers in the brush along the roadway began radiating the sounds of many people approaching. Logan's extra keen eyesight caught movement in the brush at the furthest bend in the road; he popped his claws and roared like a maniac, still running for the girl.

The tactic worked; the brush stilled, and didn't move again. Wolverine would have preferred to go after the assassin, but the girl was more important. He windmilled his arms and retracted his claws as he got to her. She was covered from head to foot in scrapes and insect bites, and looked like she hadn't had a good meal in weeks. A crusted eight-inch long wound in one of her legs oozed greenish pus. Blood was welling freely from a small hole in the upper right corner of her back, and Logan swore. He reached down and turned her over so that he could lift her up. Her face was brick red, and he'd never felt such heat in a still-living human being. He pulled an eyelid back with one hand; the pupil was nearly nonexistent. His second curse was heard loud and clear by everyone wearing a comm badge. "We spooked the shooter. I'm bringing the girl straight to surgery. Make sure Jean's there when we arrive, or we'll lose this one."

Two individuals were watching the mutants discreetly. They spoke telepathically to each other. _Can she do it? Will she turn the tide? _They regarded the girl with concern as they watched Wolverine race to the infirmary with the teen in his arms.

The second voice answered the first. _Unknown. But now there is a chance, where before there was none. Still, the magnitude of this change concerns me. _

The first speaker worried, _We cannot allow things to happen as they did before._

The second replied, _Agreed. Even They agree. But for now, we have done all that can be done. She lives; it proceeds differently than it did the last time. Now all we can do is wait._ _Only when the nexus arrives will we know. _They watched Wolverine disappear into the mansion with the unconscious girl.

Doctors Jean Gray and Henry McCoy were waiting on either side of the main surgery table when Wolverine barreled in the door with his burden. Jean immediately asked, "What's the situation?"

"Bad." Wolverine said grimly as he laid the girl on the table. "Bullet in the back, upper right quadrant. She was on fire with fever when I picked her up…but I felt her cooling down fast on the way in."Dr. McCoy, fondly known as the Beast, immediately reached behind the table for electroshock paddles.

"On her stomach" Jean ordered, and Logan obligingly rolled the girl forward before retreating.

The back of the teen's ripped shirt was soaked in blood. The red-haired telepath grabbed a scalpel and sliced what was left of the material in half. She had to grab a pad of gauze and wipe down the upper back to clear enough blood away to see anything clearly. What she saw baffled her, and she froze.

Two men were watching from the doorway; one standing, and one in a wheelchair. The standing one wore a strange pair of sunglasses that completely enclosed his eyes. "Jean, what is it? What's wrong? Why did you stop?" he asked the woman.

Dr. Gray spread her hands wider, "She … isn't bleeding."


	3. Jeryn

All four men in the room closed their eyes in anguish. The redhead quickly clarified "No, she's not dead, she's just…not bleeding. I can't find a wound anywhere."

Wolverine moved back to the table in confusion. "It's right there, I saw it bleeding like hell…."

The telepathic doctor picked up the severed shirt, through which a bullet hole was clearly visible, and laid it in place across the girl's back. She grabbed a pair of forceps and laid the tips on the spot marked by the hole, removed the cloth again, cleaned the skin – and no wound was visible.

She looked up at Logan in consternation. Before she could say a word, a metallic clinking against the forceps she held distracted her. Jean, Wolverine, and Beast looked down at the instrument, only to see a large-caliber rifle round emerging from the girl's skin as if it were being pushed out from the inside. The still-unconscious teen coughed, spitting blood, and the bullet fell onto the surgery table with a metallic _clink._

"Now wait just a damn minute" Logan swore. He reached down and grabbed the girl's leg, turning it to expose the infected wound to the medical team. It shrank and closed before their very eyes, leaving only unmarked skin behind. "I'll be damned," he said in wonder. He reached up to the teen's shoulder and rolled her onto her back. The fevered flush was all but gone, her skin nearly normal to the touch.

Charles Xavier rolled himself forward and demanded information. "What is it? What have you found?"

Henry McCoy answered Professor Xavier, "It seems our young friend has healing abilities like Logan's."

The aforementioned mutant screwed up his face in puzzlement "But it doesn't make sense. If she's got healing abilities, why the fever? Why the infected wound?"

"Perhaps her healing ability needs something specific to trigger it, instead of being automatic like yours" Jean suggested. Wolverine looked highly doubtful "Maybe," he said.

The girl coughed powerfully, and opened her eyes to see a roomful of strangers – two of them with medical instruments pointed at her – and panicked. She exploded into motion, trying to fling herself backwards and away from the strangers and succeeded in flipping herself off of the surgery table.

Both Xavier and Dr. Gray – powerful telepaths – were receiving massive waves of panic from the child. It was only made worse by Hank and Logan, who had the girl cornered against the rear wall of the infirmary and were trying to pin her.

Jean reached out with her mind for a sedative-laden hypo even as she mentally sent a message to Xavier. _Professor, we've got to get her calmed down, quickly! Her pulse is so rapid that she could go into cardiac arrest at any moment._

Charles nodded and raised his voice in command. "Henry! Logan! Stop! Back away from the child. Slowly. Now!" The two men did as they were told. The headmaster began projecting a calming mental field at the girl. "Please," he said to her entreatingly, "we're only trying to help you. We saw someone shooting at you outside, and brought you in for medical attention." He'd pitched his voice to soothe and comfort – and distract.

A silver glitter sped across the room. Dr. Gray – a telekine as well as telepath, with the power to move physical objects by the power of her mind alone – had sent the filled hypo darting across the surgery at the teen. They were all amazed when the girl dodged, avoiding the missile easily. It crashed into the wall and fell to the floor with a clatter.

The girl spoke for the first time, sarcastically "And I suppose that thing's full of sugar water, right?" Her eyes darted left and right, looking for any escape. Henry and Logan slowly rolled the mobile tables full of surgical instruments behind them, away from the teen.

Jean sent a thought burst to Xavier. _This isn't getting us anywhere. I'm going to try something._ The professor sent acknowledgement, and beckoned to Beast and Wolverine to continue their slow retreat. Jean stepped forward before the girl could take advantage of the situation. "That was my fault. I'm a doctor. Logan, there," she indicated the wild-haired mutant "told us that you'd been shot. Your back," she said, pointing to the bloody shreds of the shirt hanging from the girl's arms "was covered in blood, and this," she held the bullet out for inspection, "came out of the wound." She was projecting truth and sincerity at the child. "I'm sorry that my friends frightened you. We were afraid you were going to injure yourself further by thrashing around. That," she indicated the dented hypo on the floor, "contains a strong sedative. Your heart was beating too fast, and I wanted to slow it down before it could code."

The professor could see that Jean's words were having an effect. The girl was staring at the doctor as if she were x-raying the woman for signs of deception. _Perhaps she is,_ he thought to himself. In any case, the girl had relaxed marginally.

The redheaded telepath continued, "If you want, you can kick it back over to me and I'll inject myself with it to prove to you that it's harmless."

Scott Summers, also called Cyclops, tried to help break the tension in the room. "Awww, and I had plans for us tonight." He and the doctor were longtime lovers.

Absorbed by the teen's tension, Jean actually turned around and looked at him indignantly in response to the wisecrack. "Scott!"

Oddly enough, that little exchange seemed to convince the girl that she wasn't in any immediate danger. Xavier was relieved to see her take a deep breath and relax a bit more. He seized the opportunity it presented. "At any rate, it doesn't seem to me as if you require medical attention any longer. Jean, why don't you show our guest to the showers and fetch her some clean clothing? Henry, I'm sure she could use a good meal. The kitchens should be preparing dinner by now."

The blue furred mutant bowed his head convivially "I shall see what they have to offer our young friend" and left the room.

Xavier continued "Scott, Logan, go see if we have a room available for our guest. Something on the first floor, preferably with largewindows." The two men left without a word. Xavier rolled his wheelchair a little further into the room.

Though the girl had relaxed a bit, she was still suspicious and ill at ease. "Why are you doing all this? What's your game?"

The father of the X-Men said soothingly, "My 'game', as you put it, is providing a safe haven for mutants like yourself. He indicated the remaining physician, "Myself, Jean and the others you saw, are all mutants. This," he indicated the building around them, "is my home. I've used it to create a school for exceptional youngsters like yourself."

The girl snorted in disbelief, "A school? For mutants?"

Charles nodded in confirmation, "Of course, the public doesn't **know** about that aspect of it. To the world, we are simply a school for gifted children. I'd like to show it to you, if you don't mind. Of course," he indicated the bloodstained clothing that the teen wore, "I'd appreciate it if you'd change first. Some of my students are quite young, and I'm afraid your appearance would frighten them. Many of them have been through traumatic experiences, you see. Much like yourself."

She made a sound half way between a disdainful snort and a chuckle, but he was relieved to see that he had succeeded in dispelling much of the girl's remaining tension. "If you don't mind, it's rather awkward speaking to you without knowing your name, Miss…?"

The girl gave him a calculating look that was decidedly odd on one of so few years. "Call me Jeryn."

The young mutant compliantly – if suspiciously - accompanied Jean to the showers. The doctor presented an assortment of clothing for her to choose from, and Jeryn shed her ruined shirt and jeans willingly. A long hot shower did much to revitalize the child – she only came out when the tantalizing scent of a freshly prepared meal permeated the perfumed steam.

Jeryn emerged from the changing room to find Jean waiting by herself, two full meals set out on the table before her. She looked around the room nervously, but the redhead was the only other person present, and the chair obviously meant for Jeryn was facing the only door. The telepath was already part way through a garden salad, and indicated that the girl should go ahead and dig in. The teen ate so quickly that it was clear she'd been in a state of near-starvation. "You shouldn't eat so fast, you'll make yourself sick," the doctor admonished worriedly. "Slow down a bit, it won't disappear"

Jean was only halfway through her own meal by the time Jeryn finished hers. The girl leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes tiredly. Dr. Gray observed her patient carefully; the speed with which Jeryn had eaten and state of semi-emaciation concerned her greatly. _In fact,_ Jean thought to herself, _as starved as she looks, her body should be rejecting solid food._

That seemed not to be the case, however. Jean took her time with her own meal, the better to observe her companion. Jeryn's dinner showed no sign of reappearing. Instead, the girl was very near falling asleep in the chair. _Consistent with exhaustion and semistarvation, anyway._ She put her fork down and addressed the young woman. "I think you'd be more interested in seeing a warm bed rather than school classes right now. How about we go find that room that the Professor talked about?" The teen nodded sleepily.

Jean led her to the room that Scott and Logan had prepared. She threw open the french windows to catch the cool evening breeze, and then went to rummage in the closet for extra bedding. "It'll be a bit cold with the window open, so you might want…" The doctor turned to offer a wool blanket to find the girl curled up in a ball on the bed, already fast asleep. The sight tugged strongly on the maternal strings in Jean's heart. She covered the sleeper with the heavy fabric, sat beside her on the bed, and ran her hand through the girl's still-damp hair tenderly.

After making sure that her charge was asleep, Jean let her hand rest on Jeryn's temple. Her eyes unfocused as she shifted her attention to the stilling mind beneath her hand. Stilling, but not stilled. The girl had slid into dreams the moment she'd slipped into sleep – and the dreams were rapidly turning to nightmares. Or more accurately, nightmarish recall. Jean watched in swiftly growing horror as the girl's mind began reliving months' – and years' - long series of ambushes, attacks, injuries, and flights. They unfurled before her astonished review like the mother of all horror movies. The incidents were hideous, terrifying. When a particularly bloody scene paraded before her, Jean reached into the teen's mind out of instinct, to redirect the drama – and came up against the strongest psychic shields she had ever encountered in a non-telepath.

The memories were driving tears from Jean's eyes. She couldn't bear to let them continue. It took one of her stronger psychic efforts, but she finally got through the outer layers of Jeryn's mental protections enough to divert the nightmares into more innocuous paths. She felt the girl's unconscious but very physical sigh of relief even in trance.

The redhead brought her attention back to the room; her face was wet from crying at the abominations she'd witnessed. With luck, the girl would sleep well into the morning. Jean leaned over the young woman and kissed her hair. She rested her own head on the girl's for a moment, filled with compassion. Then she got up, turned off the lights, and went to report to the Professor.


	4. Conference

Dr. Gray walked into Xavier's office, which doubled as the staff room, to find her friends assembled and awaiting her. She instinctively walked to Scott's side even as Charles inquired "The girl?"

Cyclops casually lifted an arm so that Jean could slide under it. "Asleep in the guest room. Or more accurately, unconscious. She's so exhausted that I think she was out before her head hit the pillow."

Scott Summers knew his woman, and he could tell that Jean was significantly disturbed. "What's wrong? You're upset."

The telepath wrapped her arms around her chest and hugged herself reflexively. "I looked into her mind as soon as I felt she wasn't going to wake. God, the horrors that child has been through for the past few years; you wouldn't believe it. Nearly as bad as Logan."

Everyone in the room was startled; Wolverine had been put through what could only be called torture by men who had poured molten metal into his living body to reinforce his skeleton and give him retractable claws. His mind had nearly self-destructed in order to block out the memories. Steel tinged Xavier's voice as he commanded his protégé "Show me."

Jean shuddered automatically at the thought of examining those memories again, but she obediently linked her mind to the Professor's and began replaying what she had seen. Dr. Gray was an empath as well as a telepath, and she projected the emotional content of the scenes as well as the dry details. She felt Charles recoil in disgust and disbelief when the replay began – echo of her own response. It only strengthened as he absorbed the images from her mind. His reaction was so strong that it was physically visible to everyone in the room. "Oh my God…," he said quietly as the last of the scenes faded.

Cyclops voiced the concern that they all felt. "Professor?" he asked anxiously.

It took the normally imperturbable telepath a minute to get his wits back together. The father of the X-Men informed the group, "Every bit as bad as Jean said, if not worse. This is a very damaged young woman that we're dealing with."

Dejection swept the room, and bitterness swiftly followed it. Storm spat out "All because she's a mutant."

The normally amiable Beast swore and slammed a tightly held fist into his massive hand in a rare show of anger. "Damn them! Damn the bigotry that lets men attack a child for no cause!"

A steely _shing_ filled the room. Wolverine had popped his claws, as enraged as the others. The only reason he was able to restrain himself from slashing the professor's furniture was because he had a more satisfying target in mind. "There was at least one shooter. He probably had a car -– we're too far out in the woods for him to have hiked in easily. I'll go out to where he was standing, see if I can pick up a trail. Maybe if we're lucky he's still around."

Xavier looked out the window and saw darkness beginning to blanket the grounds. "Scott, Jean, Storm, go with him. See if you can track him. If he had a car, he's long gone by now. If he isn't, if you find him, don't harm him. Bring him here." The professor spoke sternly to reinforce the order. Telling Logan to play nice when he was enraged was usually as effective as telling a hurricane to go away and expecting that it would listen. Without further ado, the team left the office.

Wolverine discovered that there had been not one man, but two. He had no trouble finding the shooter's position even in the gathering darkness; the smell of greasy sweat and the acrid smell of gunpowder were as obvious as neon billboards to his extraordinarily keen senses. Backtracking the man's trail led to an s-curve in the road, at which point it was obvious from scent alone that he had escaped by car. Logan scented another man – the getaway driver, most likely – at the very spot where the spoor left by the first man ended, at the edge of the tarmac.

Scott shone a high-power halogen flashlight up and down Greymalkin Lane in vain. "Well, no use. Like the Professor said, they're long gone."

Jean spoke up, having unsuccessfully tried to get a telepathic bearing on their quarry. "From the images in Jeryn's mind, I'd say they wouldn't have gone too far. They've been hunting her for months – I don't think they're going to just give up and go away now."

Logan vented his frustration by slashing down a good-sized sapling on the verge of the road. "Let 'em come. They won't be able to molest any more kids when I'm through with them."

They reported their lack of success to Xavier. "As I suspected," he commented. The father of the X-Men thoughtfully turned his attention to his protégé. "Jean, there's something about the child that disturbs me."

She nodded affirmation and stated, "Her shields." Her teammates were confused and she explained, "When I saw the memories she was reliving, I automatically reached out to divert them. I tried to touch her mind and ran into an unbelievably strong set of psychic shields."

Everyone else was startled. Storm asked, "She has psychic shields? Is she a telepath, then?"

Both Jean and the Professor shook their heads in negation. Jean explained, "She's definitely not a telepath. It's easy to tell if someone is one or not. It's like seeing whether a light bulb is on or off. Even if it has a lampshade over it, you can tell when it's lit."

Cyclops mused, "So you're saying that she's not a telepath, because you can sense that the light is off, but at the same time she's got one heck of a lampshade on."

Jean confirmed the truth of his analogy. "And because the light was off and the room was dark, I only found out about the lampshade by running into it."

Ororo expressed the puzzlement in the room. "So, how could she get psychic shields without being psychic?"

Scott looked at the Professor in query. "Is it possible that it's just a random fluke?"

Xavier firmly shook his head. "About as likely as the sands of the desert randomly arranging themselves into a replica of the Eiffel Tower, or the Great Wall of China. Psychic shields have to be set in place _and __maintained_ consciously. Even though it does become near-unconscious habit after a while. Jean," he directed Dr. Gray, "I'd like you to be her mentor. Show her around, introduce her, the usual. You'll be able to monitor her discreetly, even if she does have shields. As traumatized as she is, she's likely to need your assistance in any event, so we might as well anticipate. I want to know who is hunting her, and why." The group conferred for a few more minutes, and then dispersed for the night.

Jean and Scott went to their own quarters. Cyclops couldn't help but notice that the telepath clung to him more closely than usual in their bed. She'd done so before, whenever she'd experienced something horrifying. He'd spent many a sleepless night comforting and calming his lover after such events. Judging from the strength of her grasp, what she'd seen in the girl's mind might well give his woman nightmares this night. If the teen's past was enough to give someone else nightmares, he damned well didn't want to know what the girl herself felt.


	5. Integration

Jean's guess was accurate – Jeryn didn't wake until midmorning, when both telepaths entered the guestroom. It was obvious to Dr. Gray and the Professor that their guest was hair-triggered. Both of them had sensed a sleeping mind when approaching the room, but upon opening the door were confronted with the girl crouched on all fours prepared to fight or flee. Pain went through both the telepaths, though neither showed it.

Xavier greeted his guest with a hearty "Good morning!" pretending obliviousness to the girl's reaction. Jean set a well-filled tray on the bedside table, and then retreated to the professor's wheelchair at the other side of the room. He indicated that the teen should help herself to the contents. "You slept through breakfast in the dining hall this morning, so we thought we'd bring the meal here." Jeryn needed no further encouragement and began wolfing down the food as ravenously as she had the prior evening's.

The professor politely ignored the less-than-proper table manners. _You __were__ right__ about __the __starvation, __Jean, __and__ the__ trauma,_ he sent to his associate while speaking out loud to the girl. "I thought we'd take that tour of the school this morning. I'd like you to meet some of the students your own age here. You can talk to them by yourself if you'd like."

The doctor continued the telepathic conversation. _Post __traumatic__ stress __disorder __for __sure__ – __and __she __hasn__'__t __realized__ yet __that __it__'__s __**post**__. __She__'__s __running__ on __pure __adrenaline. __I__'__d __prefer __to __sedate __her, __but __that __wouldn__'__t __be __advisable __until __she __trusts __us __more. __And __by__ the __time __she __gets __there,__ she__'__ll __probably__ crash__ on __her __own._

Jeryn managed somehow to speak clearly while making the food disappear at a speed that would have done a magician credit. "And after that?"

Xavier deliberately chose to misinterpret the statement. "Lunch ought to be ready by that time. Perhaps you'd like to dine with some of the students? Our regular classes begin at eight thirty in the morning and end at three. After that, the older or more powerfully gifted students are given an hour's practice in their mutant abilities under the direction of the staff. I think you'll find it interesting. You'll have ample ability to speak with any of them you like. Dinner is served promptly at six thirty, and lights out is at nine. Shall we go?" Jeryn had cleaned every scrap of food off of the tray while the professor had been speaking. Sensing that she wasn't going to get further answers at the moment, she shrugged acquiescence and followed the two out the door.

Xavier deliberately took his time escorting the young woman around the building and grounds. _A __long, __boring __tour __is __just __the__ thing __to __calm__ our __guest __down, _he thought to himself. Jean raised an eyebrow at him in amusement as he deliberately exaggerated his handicapped state to slow the tour down even further. He had Jeryn peek into the doors of the various rooms to see classes in progress and took her to the garage where Cyclops was teaching a group of boys how to disassemble and reassemble his spare motorcycle.

The professor and Jean exchanged a significant glance when they went through the stables; without prompting, Jeryn looked into each occupied stall with great interest. When she came to the box stall at the rear, it became significantly more. A great bay stallion, the pride of the stable, had come forward to investigate the sounds approaching him. The teen's jaw dropped as the animal approached. Xavier would have cautioned her, but the hand she extended for inspection was properly loose-fisted instead of open. Only the back of it was presented to the high-strung animal, which would make it easier to pull away in case the horse decided to snap at it. Fortunately the stallion was curious about the newcomer and only whuffled at the hand inquiringly.

Jean fetched a cube of sweet-feed from a nearby box and presented it surreptitiously to the girl. The young woman gently withdrew her hand from under the horse's nose, and then offered the cube on a flattened palm. The animal made short work of the treat and allowed her to slide the hand under his jaw where she gently scratched him. In short, she was showing all the hallmarks of a trained horsewoman. Jean felt like jumping up and down with glee. _I __think __we __just __found__ our __therapy __mode, __Professor, _she sent.

An equally pleased acknowledgement was his response, and he commented casually to Jeryn, "Equitation lessons are held every afternoon. Perhaps you'd like to observe them later?" The swift affirmative was gratifying.

A chime rang throughout the stable; loud enough to be heard, but not shrill enough to spook the horses. Jeryn turned to look at her guides with puzzlement. "The warning bell for lunch" Xavier explained "Shall we?" The teen wistfully glanced back at the stallion once more; the fickle beast had moved away to stand in the sunshine at the outside door upon seeing that no more treats were in the offing. Neither Charles nor Jean missed the small smile and flash of remembrance on the girl's face as she fell in behind them.

While Xavier chose to dine in his customary place at the head table, Jean eschewed her usual seat in favor of a corner table to which she directed Jeryn. They had arrived a few minutes ahead of the crowd and were already seated when people began to pour in. The telepath saw Storm's platinum hair enter the doorway. _Ororo,__ come __join __us,_ she sent to her friend, _I __want __Jeryn __to __begin__ getting __used__ to __other __adults._

The dark-skinned lady worked her way across the increasingly noisy dining hall, tray in hand. Jean performed the introductions as the elegant woman extended a hand in greeting. "Jeryn, this is Ororo Munroe, one of the instructors at the school." The teacher sat down at the table without making it obvious that she was bracketing the girl at Jean's direction. "People around here call me Storm, because my mutant power allows me to control the weather," she said cheerfully. "I teach the History classes here."

Jeryn swallowed, and paused her eating to comment "Control the weather, eh?" she said thoughtfully, and turned to Jean Gray. "And what's your mutant power?" she asked over the growing noise. _Oops.__ Should__'__ve __seen __that __one __coming. __Better __to __not __tell __her__ everything __just __yet.,_she thought to herself. She reached for the salt shaker on the table; it was a good foot away from her fingers. To Jeryn's surprise, it slid smoothly by itself into Jean's hand. "I'm a telekinetic. I can move things with my mind." The redhead saw an amused expression cross her colleague's face that said _Good __save._

The doctor spoke quickly to cover the near-lapse. "That's how I threw the hypo at you last night. I'm really sorry about that – I was honestly worried that you were going to do yourself harm if you didn't calm down." To her pleased relief, the teen shrugged off the apology and resumed eating.

As the dining hall filled, available seats became fewer. Jean was watching the influx of students for one in particular, and reached out with her mind when she saw the one she wanted. _Jubilee,__ will __you __and __Peter __join __me __at __the __corner __table?__ We__'__ve __got __a__ prospective__ new__ student __that __I__'__d __like __you __to __meet.__ She__'__s __a__ "four." __Spread __the __word, __will __you?_ Even from across the room, the telepath saw her contact wince.

The students had a number system that they used among themselves to assess newcomers. Four was the highest number on the scale, and was used to refer to seriously traumatized mutants who were often unable to deal with normal teen social behaviors. "Fours" were often accompanied by a staff member as a precaution until they settled in. Thankfully they were relatively rare. Because many of the students had encountered anti-mutant prejudice personally, most were highly sympathetic towards those among their number that had had more than a passing encounter with it. As soon as word got around (and Jean saw Jubilee lean over to tell the boy next to her,) even the most boisterous students would moderate themselves around the newcomer until she managed to relax a bit.

Jeryn looked up nervously as a yellow-jacketed girl a couple of years younger than herself approached the table and asked "Is this seat taken?"

Jean waved a hand unconcernedly, and introduced the newcomer. "Jeryn, this is Jubilee. She's been at the school for a few months now. Jubilee, this is Jeryn. She just arrived last night and she's been giving us the once-over. She's a self-healer, like Wolverine."

Everyone at the table ignored Jeryn's uncomfortable squirm. "Cool!" Jubilee enthused. She picked up her knife and fork and held them about an inch apart. The older teen was astonished when a blue-white arc leaped from one to the other. "My power's electrical." A large-chested boy appeared behind Jubilee, and commented in a heavy Russian accent "Death to computers, she is. Broke another one this morning, she did."

Ororo sighed, exasperated. "Jubilee, that's the third one this month. Weren't you wearing your gloves?" Yellow jacket picked her arms up off the table to show the prospective student her matching handwear and explained "Some of us have powers that are activated by touch, or have energy fields that extend past the body. We get gloves to wear, depending on what our powers are, so that we don't do something accidentally." Jeryn nodded comprehension, and Jubilee continued in an embarrassed tone "I dropped a transistor in the computer shop and couldn't pick it up with my gloves on, so I took them off…." Storm concluded "And forgot to put them back on before putting it in the circuit board." The girl grinned in admission, and Ororo sighed again.

The big mutant pulled out a chair and introduced himself. "My name is Peter, and I am from Soviet Union. I am called Colossus because my body grows large and indestructible like steel, yes?" Jean was pleased to see Jeryn responding to the obvious gentleness of the large boy. She was absolute floored when her charge replied in flawless Russian. "Da. Zdravstvujtye, Pyotr." The boy beamed, and asked a friendly sounding question, to which Jeryn nodded and responded fluently. The others at the table sat up in astonishment, impressed.

"Well!" Storm commented "With any luck, Peter, you may have found yourself an assistant for your Russian Language class!" Colossus smiled even more widely, and applied himself to his lunch with enthusiasm.


	6. Resident

Minor conversation occupied the rest of the meal period and was only ended by the arrival at the table of Professor Xavier. "Splendid!" the headmaster enthused, addressing Jeryn "I see you've met our Jubilee and Peter. Having an interesting conversation?" Jean smiled – she'd prompted him to ask the question.

Ororo remarked "Quite interesting, actually. Turns out our new friend here speaks Russian quite fluently. Peter's been in heaven for the last twenty minutes."

Colossus grinned admission of the charge "But Russian is so much simpler a language! Your English is so confusing." Jubilee and Storm groaned theatrically; his comment had all the character of an oft-repeated plaint.

The professor informed the group "As the warning bell for the next class is about to ring, I thought I'd come fetch our new friend, as she'd expressed an interest in Equitation." Jubilee and Peter excused themselves. Jubilee commented that she wanted nothing to do with big smelly independent-minded animals and Peter said that his only experience with them was from behind a plow. Ororo left for her Middle Eastern History class, leaving the three to proceed to the stables.

Jeryn was enthralled by the half-dozen horses that were already being saddled. Xavier noted that she was disappointed by the absence of the bay stallion. The three of them walked right up to the paddock fence; an amiable mare named Blaze for the white stripe on her face stuck her head over the fence to whiffle companionably at the professor, who stroked her nose affectionately.

All the horses wore western saddles. Dr. Gray noted the fleeting expression of disdain on her charge's face, and explained. "We don't have anyone at the school that has any experience riding English at the moment, and if we didn't have Kevin over there," she indicated a sixteenish-looking lad assisting a very young girl to mount, "we wouldn't have anyone with any expertise at all."

Xavier commented, "Kevin grew up on a cattle farm in South Dakota. When his mutant powers manifested, he was not encouraged to remain. I convinced his parents to allow him to come here."

The brown-haired boy hailed the instructors. "Professor! Dr. Gray! New student?"

Jean replied, "Hopefully. Might depend on what kind of a ride you've got for her."

Kevin walked over and eyed the new girl with interest. "Beginner, intermediate, advanced?" he inquired.

Xavier informed him "Closer to advanced I believe, though she's not been well recently. Do you have something suitable?"

Jeryn colored and scuffed her feet in an embarrassed fashion when Kevin checked her footwear and found her wearing sneakers. There was no judgement in his expression, just thoughtfulness. "Star's got a soft mouth and she's a good goer, but she's high strung and a bit skittish. Hasn't had a good run in a day or two. Think you can manage?" She nodded decisively.

Kevin took her at her word and led her inside the paddock, taking her to a black mare at the end of the line. Jean and Charles followed on the outside of the fence. Jeryn allowed the mare to check her out, and then began running her hands gently over the horse. She double-checked the girth strap and ran her hands down each of the mare's legs, pulling up and inspecting each foot in turn. The boy was grinning widely as she set down the last foot. "You'll do. Need a leg up?"

Jeryn shook her head and mounted. The mare shied, but she steadied the animal with knee and voice. The other students paused to watch her direct the horse confidently to the paddock gate so that Kevin could let them through. They watched as she took the mare through her paces in the adjacent pasture. It quickly became obvious to all of them that the girl was an expert horsewoman; the ease with which she controlled high-strung animal was obvious.

The teen was in heaven at being a-horseback again. She found the mare perfectly sweet, with only the nervous energy that marked many a well-bred steed. The animal showed every sign of being a swift runner, too, and Jeryn determined to try her paces. At the far end of the pasture she turned and urged the horse into a blinding sprint along the fence. She rode lightly and easily; the mare sensed the rider's confidence and settled down.

Jeryn rode past the paddock. She pulled Star down into a walk and let her blow. The horse did so, but fought the bit a little – not anywhere near tired, she still wanted to run. The teen laughed with delight at the mare's spirit. Obligingly, she urged her mount into another run, and headed for a series of low jumps near the fence on the far side of the pasture.

Kevin shaded his eyes and frowned. Dr. Gray noticed his concern and asked "Problem, Kevin?"

The boy answered her almost absently "I've tried jumping Star a time or two, but she's always refused me before. Hope she's got the sense to bail if Star gets ornery about it." The two instructors watched with concern as Jeryn and the horse neared the jumps.

The teen felt the mare begin to waffle as they neared the hurdles. "Come on, love, you can do it!" she urged the animal, "You're too good a girl to let those stupid things slow you down." She firmly guided the horse at the exact center of the barrier. Jeryn's deft direction, encouraging tone, and gentle urging made the difference, and Star's hesitation vanished. The horse threw herself at the first pole and jumped it handily, feet prettily tucked up close to her barrel. The girl could all but hear the mare's astonishment when it landed solidly on the other side.

Jeryn urged her mount at the next pole and nearly laughed out loud when it responded with enthusiasm. The barriers were well spaced out, as this was a pasture and not a jumping course per se. She took the horse through the entire set of six jumps without hazard, and pulled the mare down to a smooth trot after the last. She did laugh when the animal threw up its head and clacked the bit; she could all but hear the "Well! I never!"

Xavier was more than pleased, as his newest student took the horse into an easy canter for a final circuit of the pasture. Both he and Jean had been monitoring the rider closely. For the first time since her arrival, Jeryn had relaxed enough to unload some of the tension she'd been burdened with. The exercise had been as beneficial for the girl as the animal. It boded well.

Jeryn pulled the horse to a stop at some distance from the paddock, and led the horse in at a walk so that it could cool down. Kevin was grinning hugely as she approached. "If you want a job, you've got it," he declared with enthusiasm.

The father of the X-Men was quick to capitalize on the opportunity. "I'll second that offer." The teen was plainly astonished, and he followed up, "You can understand that we have to take advantage of any kind of expertise that comes our way. Our curriculum isn't exactly standardized. You're obviously fluent in Russian, and are a capable horsewoman. If you're willing to teach the other students what you know and help care for the horses, you're welcome to stay here. Bed, board, and whatever classes you'd care to take in exchange. Is that acceptable?"

The young woman was silent for a couple of minutes while she gave Charles the same intense scrutiny that she'd used on Jean in the infirmary, then nodded her head and answered, "Deal."


	7. Copycat

Jeryn was walking down the first floor corridor leading to the main entrance hall of the school. Students populated the hallway; the second class period had just concluded, and the third was about to begin. She had been at the school for nearly a month. She had to juggle an armload of books (she preferred carrying two classes' worth at once, rather than running for books after each period), and stopped to get herself organized. A knot of boys went by her; a suspicious snicker as they went past made her look up in reflex.

She was dismayed to see Tom Billings in the midst of the lot. Tom was a pyrotic – he had the ability to create and control fire. He was also possessed of a sense of mischievousness that bordered on sabotage. In the three-plus weeks that Jeryn had been at the school, she'd already discovered that he had a deserved reputation for using his mutant power to pull off nasty practical jokes.

Sure enough, he extended a hand towards a group of young girls – one of them very young indeed - even as she watched. Rage quickly filled her. _No way you jerk! Not while I can help it!_ Jeryn deliberately threw her books to the floor; as she anticipated, the abrupt and loud sound caused heads to turn towards her – and Tom - automatically. She ran towards her target. A few steps brought her into range and she launched herself at the boy. Jeryn hit his outstretched arm with one hand and his shoulder with the other.

Both of them fell to the floor. Tom started to yell at her angrily, enraged at the interference. He reached out toward her, intending to call fire and strike at her in retaliation. To everyone's surprise, Jeryn, who had shown no sign of any mutant power at all, easily came up off the floor in a well-practiced fighting crouch. Her hands were in extended in front of her and before Tom could call forth fire, she did.

A rope of fire lashed out from her extended hands, and wrapped Tom up like a mummy. To his absolute shock and astonishment, the rope actually burned him. He had never before received any kind of burn, due to his mutant power. He found the experience distinctly unpleasant to say the least. The pain and the shock thoroughly stunned him and Jeryn took full advantage of it.

The entire rope did not burn, but all along its length were painful "hot spots" that seared him like severe bee stings. Tom tried to call up his pyrotic ability, frantically trying to control the fire. To his horror, he could neither take control of the fire nor fend off the burning spots.

Some of the other students had screamed and scattered at the attack. Many were angry, recognizing that Tom had been about to pull another prank. More of them were flabbergasted to see Jeryn manipulating fire. One student ran to find and fetch the nearest teacher. The rest clearly heard her as she began speaking to Tom.

The usually amiable girl spoke with an unmistakable note of rage in her voice. "I don't like it when someone attacks a person whose back is turned. Cowardly, scummy thing to do." The boy was frantically trying to fend off further burns, and made no reply. She gestured and the flame ropes bent him up and backwards, closer to her face. It was very clear that he had no control over his body at all.

Jeryn said to him, "There will always be someone bigger, badder, and meaner than you are, punk. You step out of line one more time, you pull any more of your nasty tricks, and you'll find out who's bigger, and badder, and meaner." Her voice was full of threat.

At this point Scott and Jean arrived on the scene. Jeryn pulled on the flame ropes, dragging Tom upright, and said "By this time tomorrow, you're going to have a written apology for each person in this school that you've hurt with your stupid stunts. Aren't you?" When he only grunted, she yanked on the burning cords and repeated "Aren't you?"

The pyrotic, scared of flames for the first time in his life could only answer "Yes," in a strangled tone of voice.

Jean Gray spoke into the following silence and said, "I think that's about enough." It was obvious to the telepath that the boy had been interrupted while attempting one of his "jokes."

Cyclops commanded, "Tom, I think you should go to your room now."

The boy didn't say anything in response, and Jeryn jerked on the ropes a third time. "What is the appropriate reply when a teacher addresses you, Tom?"

New hot spots flared along the length of the rope to compel him to answer. He choked out, "Yes, sir."

Before releasing the boy Jeryn warned him, "From now on, you lock down your power and you keep it locked down until a teacher gives you permission otherwise. Understand?"

Tom swallowed in fear and replied "Yes. Ma'am."

Jeryn pushed him away and let the ropes dissolve, propelling the boy down the hall in the direction of the dormitories. Dr. Gray enforced Jeryn's order. "Written apologies for everyone by dinner tomorrow, Tom." The boy quickly took off down the hall.

Before the X-Men could say anything, the young woman turned to check on the youngsters who had been the target of the aborted attack. Of the three young girls, the smallest was affected the most, crying softly. It hurt Jeryn's heart to see the little one flinch as she approached. She sat down on the marble floor to bring herself down to the child's level and make herself less intimidating. "It's OK sweetheart, don't cry," she comforted the young girl.

The little one's tears didn't stop as she wailed, "I'm afraid of fire."

Jeryn mentally cursed the departed pyrotic. _Of course. That's why he chose her to pick on._ She deliberately turned away from the little girl and extended her hand towards an empty stretch of marble floor. "You don't have to be afraid of fire, honey," she cajoled. "Fire can be a good thing. Look at this." The teen closed her eyes in concentration. Several small balls of fire materialized on the open floor and quickly resolved themselves into a litter of tumbling kittens. The eyes of all the younger children (not to mention the two X-Men) went wide as the ersatz animals played with each other, exhibiting all the endearing behaviors of living pets. The flame-kittens chased each other's tails, swatted at each other, and playfully wrestled. The little ones were so enthralled that they soon forget about the attempted attack.

Jeryn didn't allow the exhibition to continue for very long. As soon as she felt that the children were over their fright, she let the flame – kittens die out. To her relief, a wave of protest went up from the kids. "Aww, can't we play with them some more?" was the response of Tom's victim.

The young woman chuckled. "Tell you what. If everyone gets their homework done before dinner time, then we can play with the kittens for a little while before bed." The youngsters were thoroughly enthused and a chorus of promises surrounded her as they hurried off to their interrupted classes.

She stood up gratefully, only to be approached by Jean and Scott. "So. You're a pyrotic too." Cyclops stated sternly.

The young woman looked at him in embarrassment. "No, I'm not. Well," she amended hastily, "for the next 24 hours I am, anyway." The X-Men were thoroughly confused.

Jean informed her charge firmly, "I think that we should discuss this with the Professor," and led the way to the headmaster's office.

Xavier was preparing for his second – year physics class when Jean and Scott, followed by a very hangdog Jeryn entered the room. "Jean, Scott. Is something wrong?"

The flame haired telepath took the lead and explained, "A very excited student came running into Scott's classroom, and yelled that there was a fight going on in the entrance hall."

Cyclops picked up the narrative. "When we arrived, Jeryn had Tom Billings trussed up with a rope of flame like a bird ready for the spit." The professor's eyes widened in surprise.

Dr. Gray continued, "Tom had been about to pull another prank on one of the younger students, and it seems that Jeryn took it upon herself to step in and stop him. She tied him up with a rope made out of fire, and proceeded to intimidate the living daylights out of him."

Scott added mock-helpfully, "She even gave him a writing assignment as punishment."

Xavier looked at the girl in astonishment. "Jeryn, is this true? You're a pyrotic? We thought you were a self – healer, like Wolverine." The teen shook her head emphatically, perplexing the father of the X-Men further. "Explain," he demanded.

Jeryn took a deep breath, and looked up at the professor. "I'm not a pyrotic. I'm a copycat," she clarified. "My mutant power allows me to copy the abilities of other mutants for about 24 hours. All I have to do is touch someone. If that person is a mutant, then I gain their power for a day. If it's a normal human, then nothing happens."

Jean's eyes grew blank as she searched her memory, and then widened in comprehension. "Logan ran out to rescue you the day you arrived at the mansion. When he brought you in, I couldn't find a bullet wound." Xavier's protégé turned to look at her mentor. "He said that he felt Jeryn's fever cooling while he was bringing her to surgery. He showed us the leg wound, and it healed right before our eyes."

The young woman nodded. "He had to have touched my skin when he picked me up. I hadn't met another mutant for days; my power would have copied his as soon as he touched me."

Understanding dawned in the X-Men. The Professor stated, "You copied Logan's healing ability."

Dr. Gray started and exclaimed, "That's why your body didn't reject the food that night! Your new healing power kept it down, because you were starving."

Jeryn confirmed the insights. "My power can copy both physical mutants and power mutants. If I touch someone with a physical mutancy, my body changes to mimic it. I retain proportional mass and gender, but otherwise I become a physical copy of that mutant. Most of the time I don't retain anything after the mimicking wears off. Sometimes, though, there are things I learn while I'm copying that talent that I can carry over to some degree. The more often I copy that power, the more I learn and can do afterwards."

Insight filled Xavier. "_That's_ why you have psychic shields!"

The girl nodded. "I've run into a number of psi-talented mutants. Some telepaths, some empaths, telekines, others. I learn something every time I copy one. While I have their powers I can set certain things inside myself on 'automatic,' and set triggers that I **can** access after I lose the powers. Crude, but effective."

Comprehension lit the expression on Jean's face. "That's why you've been so uncomfortable around Dr. McCoy!"

The teen agreed and explained apologetically "I've saved my life more than once by making sure people didn't know I was a mutant. I've had enough experience with mimicking power – mutants to be able to shut down a power manifestation. But if I'd ever touched a physical – mutant while in a crowd, I'd have been immediately exposed. I learned the hard way to never show all my cards. I'm sorry."

The professor relaxed, and reassured his student. "Perfectly understandable. No apologies necessary. In fact, I commend you for being so circumspect about the use of your ability. Too many mutants succumb to the temptation of using their abilities to lash out at their tormentors."

The girl shifted uncomfortably, "I lashed out at a fair number of them myself, sir," she confessed.

Charles waved his hand in dismissal. "Self-defense is an entirely different situation. Given the condition you were in when you were arrived, there was obviously sufficient provocation."

Jeryn's relief was plain to the trio. "What should I do now, sir?"

The professor ruminated for a few moments. "It seems that the situation with Mr. Billings has been satisfactorily resolved. I think the next thing is to equip you with a proper set of gloves to avoid triggering your mutant power inadvertently. Then we can set up an appropriate training program so that you can master it under safe and controlled conditions."

The teen flushed in embarrassment. "About Tom Billings. I'm sorry about that, sir. Seeing a mutant use his power just to pick on people makes me sick. I've run into his kind before. In my experience, that kind of person doesn't straighten out until they've been stepped on by somebody bigger than they are." She looked at the instructors apologetically. "Sometimes a peer can get away with things that a superior can't. I'm sorry if I overstepped my bounds."

Professor Xavier's opinion of his newest student had risen considerably. "Not at all. It's up to all of us to watch out for each other. I'm pleased and impressed by the way you handled the situation."

Jean Gray smiled as she directed, "Run along to the storeroom and pick out a couple of pairs of gloves. Take a few minutes to get yourself together, then get yourself to your fourth class. After last class, report to me at the track and we'll see what else you can do as a pyrotic."

The girl nodded her agreement, and left to do as instructed.


	8. Pain

**Pain**

Not all of the mutants at Xavier's school were refugees. Several were fortunate enough to have parents whose love for their children was strong enough to overcome their fears of mutation. Knowing the potential dangers that existed, these parents had sought long and hard for a safe harbor in which their children could grow up in peace, and had found Xavier's school.

Once each quarter the school held a weekend in which these parents were invited to come visit with the children. Two months after Jeryn had joined the school, one of these weekend events occurred. Breakfast was a display of exuberant chaos that the staff only half-heartedly attempted to control.

At the head table, Jean Gray was concerned about one student in particular. She ignored her breakfast in favor of scanning the dining hall. Rogue was seated next to her this morning, and noticed the inattention. "What're ye lookin' fer, Jean?"

The telepath sighed. "Jeryn. I was hoping she'd be here."

Rogue shook her head in acknowledgement and regret. "Well, y'know she ain't the only one gone missin' this mornin'." The southerner indicated several empty or half-empty tables in the hall. "We've got more'n a few that'll be spendin' the weekend in their rooms as much as possible." Jean sighed with regret for the truth of Rogue's observation and began to pick halfheartedly at her breakfast.

The first cars began arriving around 9:00 AM. Eager students at play on the front lawns shrieked and ran to the driveway by ones and twos as they recognized arrivals. Most of the staff were present to witness the joyous reunions; even viewed secondhand, it reminded the X-Men of why they fought and what they hoped to achieve for all mutants one day.

Jean had just witnessed one such reunion – a young girl jumping into her eager father's outstretched arms – when a sharp stab of emotional energy hit her, making her gasp. Cyclops was at her side and instantly concerned. "Jean, what's wrong, are you hurt?"

The telepath was already scanning the grounds. "No Scott, it's not me. Someone's in a lot of pain…." The agony was as clear as a lighthouse beacon, and she turned to her left. Towards the stables. A lone figure stood at the far end of the building. Jean saw Jeryn turn and run for the woods behind the stables even as she located the girl. She turned to Cyclops and laid her hand on his chest. "It's Cat. I have to talk to her."

The X-Men's field commander was concerned. "Do you need help? Rogue could catch her."

The telepath shook her head. "That would only make it worse, she's been chased too much already. Tell the Professor where I've gone, I'll link to him and he can monitor from here." Scott nodded and let her go.

If Jean hadn't been psi-talented, she'd have lost the girl's trail before going a dozen steps into the woods. The path took so many twists and turns that it would have taken someone of Wolverine's caliber to track her successfully. If Jeryn had been mimicking either her or Xavier, Jean wouldn't have had a snowball's chance of finding the teen.

Fortunately, the automatic telepathic shields that the mimic had built within her mind were insufficient to block her current anguished state from leaking out without conscious attention. The pain drew Jean like a beacon. After fifteen minutes she stumbled into a grassy clearing to find the girl sprawled on hands and knees, heaving as though she were vomiting. With all her heart she projected _SAFE, FRIEND,_ so that the mutant wouldn't spook.

The telepath dropped to her knees beside the teen and cautiously opened her mind to the child to find out what was wrong. _"No sound! They'll hear me! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! Stay down! They'll kill me! Don't move! They'll see me! PAINPAINPAIN HE'S GONE! Don't scream! Can't let them find me!"_

The reflected agony drove tears from Jean's eyes and she automatically reached out to take the girl into her arms. "Jeryn it's me, it's Jean. You're safe, I've got you, no one's going to hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you. It's all right." She gathered Cat into her arms, instinctively rocking back and forth. She sensed that the pain emanating from the teen had been made all the worse by the need to stifle it in order to avoid detection. _Well, you're finally going to let some of that out, little one._ She reached into Jeryn's psyche and gently redirected the ingrained panic, replacing it with her own assurance of safety.

She knew she'd succeeded when the girl finally burst into howls, able to give voice to her pain for what might well have been the first time. Jean continued to hold and rock the mutant, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance. Jeryn cried like a brokenhearted child, bringing all of Jean's maternal instincts to the fore. It hurt Jean incredibly to see any child in such agony.

Cat cried for nearly two hours, stopping only when exhaustion made her unable to cry any further. She fell asleep right in Jean's arms, heedless of any physical discomfort. The telepath's own tears continued to fall as she stroked Jeryn's back. A shadow crossed the ground in front of her, making her look up as Rogue quietly came to a landing.

The southerner looked at her friend in query. Jean closed her eyes in concentration and deepened the teen's sleep to prevent her from waking, then indicated that the flier could take the child. Rogue gathered the girl into her arms and indicated her back to the telepath. Jean took hold of a strap built into her friend's uniform and the three of them lifted off of the ground.

Rogue flew low over the forest, discreetly bringing them to the rear of the mansion, and landed on the roof. Together they managed to get Jeryn into her room unnoticed. The southerner was alarmed at how strong her colleague's reaction was. "You all right Jean?"

The telepath nodded, heedless of her own tears. She covered the unconscious teen with an extra blanket, smoothed the girl's hair, and laid a gentle kiss on the child. Then she straightened up and turned to Rogue. "I need to talk to the Professor."

Jean filled Charles in late that evening. "There's no doubt that the hunters intended to kill her. The fear in her mind was incredible."

Charles mused over the doctor's description of the incident. It was obvious to Xavier that his protégé had been seriously shaken. "You say that she was grieving someone's loss? A male?"

Dr. Gray curled her hands around the comforting warmth of the teacup she held and burrowed a little deeper against Cyclops. "Definitely. It was the only thing that could get through the fear she was experiencing, so it had to be a traumatic loss."

Scott hazarded a guess, "A lover?"

Jean shook her head. "She's a bit young for that." She looked at the father of the X-Men. "It happened when the parents were arriving this morning. I'd say that was most likely the trigger."

The Professor steepled his hands before him in a familiar gesture. "Her father, then."

The telekine confirmed, "That would be my guess." She looked at her mentor, "She's been so closemouthed about her past, I don't know how much she'll be willing to divulge to us when she wakes. From what I saw in her mind I'm certain that this was the first time she's ever been able to express the pain she's been holding inside."

"And that will be all to the good as far as her recovery is concerned," the father of the X-Men concluded. "She'll probably sleep for several hours. Jean, keep an ear out for her. You're closer to her than any of us, if there's anyone she'll be inclined to confide in, it will be you. Keep us posted."


	9. New Telepath

Jeryn awoke late in the evening. The very first thing she was aware of was of a vast number of voices speaking, as if she was in the center of a huge crowd. The sound, though, was completely confined within her own head. She had experienced such a thing several times before, and knew instantly what it meant. _Jean touched me. I've copied her powers._

The awareness overlaid her memory of the morning's events and provided a welcome distraction for a few moments. But only a few. Her newly borrowed ability brought greater visibility, detail, and definition to her badly-injured psyche. She relaxed back into the pillow and delicately began exploring her own mind with her new abilities. They were incredibly strong; the mimic was able to make significant improvements to her automatic mental shielding. Dealing with her mental and emotional wounds was a trickier business, rather like a surgeon operating on himself. But Jeryn had long ago learned to take every opportunity presented to her. She managed to do quite a bit before feeling too uncertain of her actions to continue.

By then the darkness outside her window was complete and her stomach was making its emptiness well known. Her emotions were stll raw; despite her improved shielding she was still oversensitive to the tide of thought surrounding her. There was no way she could make it to the dining hall. There was only one option - and the X-Men would find out about it anyway, if they didn't already know. Besides, with powers as strong as this she'd best have all the help she could get. Jeryn built an image of the red-haired telepath in her thoughts, focused until she had the woman's identity clearly, then Sent _Jean?_

Dr Gray stopped speaking to a student in mid-word. After a moment of sheer surprise, she carefully returned _Yes?_ as nonchalantly as she could manage.

Jeryn sheepishly sent, _I'm awake. I've copied you. I think I could use some help, if you don't mind._

The X-Man returned _I'll be right there. Sit tight._ Jeryn acknowledged, and dropped the link.

The entire interchange had taken less than two seconds. The telepath excused herself and left. Jean touched Xavier's mind and filled him in as she hurried to the teen's apartment.

_I'm on my way, Jean. Be careful. I'm putting everyone on alert, quietly. Make sure you take all precautions. I don't believe she'll go berserk on us, but as damaged as she is..._ He let that thought trail off.

_It's a risk we can't ignore, _Jean concluded unhappily.

She entered the girl's apartment and found her lying on the bed with her eyes closed as if asleep. The doctor spoke softly, "Jeryn?" She was reassured when the teen opened her eyes briefly to smile at the visitor.

_I think I could use some help,_ the copycat Sent as her eyes closed again.

Jean sat on the bed and clasped the girl's hand in an instinctive gesture of comfort. The gesture was immediately returned, to her great relief. The doctor tentatively reached out with her thoughts. Telepathic communication was a tricky business, particularly with strangers. It was too easy to give oneself away just by the thoughts one chose to share - or not share. Doubts and reservtions were as screamingly obvious to telepaths as the proverbial elephants in the living room. Motivations were nearly as hard to hide. The X-man had an incredible advantage in that she was genuinely distressed at the girl's plight, and genuinely wanted to help.

Jeryn's new-minted telepathic senses picked that up, as well as the expertise of a healer who had lived and worked with her own abilities for many years. To Jean's astonishment, the teen responded by taking down the vast majority of her internal barriers, exposing a great deal of her injured psyche.

The doctor was about to begin a delicate exploration when the sound of someone else entering the room startled them both. Jean quickly detected and confirmed the presence of the Professor. She sent her findings to Mimic, and followed it up with her own personal, unshakable faith in the man. Charles opened his outermost shields so that the girl could more easily sense him, but made no move to touch her thoughts - the telepathic equivalent of standing on the other side of the room awaiting permission to approach.

Jeryn didn't close down her shields, but the increase in her unease was obvious to all of them. Jean solved the problem by linking to Xavier, making herself a firewall between him and the child. Reassured, Jeryn relaxed and let Jean proceed. The woman was all too eager to heal the gaping mental wounds, and did as much work as a single session and the teen's reduced stamina would allow. She sent a mental caress as she prepared to withdraw from the exhausted mutant's mind and sighed herself in relief. Jeryn caught it, and frowned slightly, sending a '?' to the redhead.

Jean froze momentarily. Her own fatigue had inadvertently betrayed her. She sent a quick warning to Xavier. Then, she reluctantly shared her fears of the damage the mimic might cause as an out of control telepath - and quickly followed that with hideous, real-life examples that the X-men had had to deal with in the past.

Jeryn considered those fears thoughtfully. There was no doubt that the X-men had cause to fear another rogue psi talent. She had encountered more than one herself, in fact. Not all mutants shared their abilities freely with her. She also reluctantly conceded that her own state was less than stable. After a moment's consideration, Cat dug into her own psyche. To both Xavier and Jean's shock the mimic created a mental trigger whose activation would cause her instant unconsciousness regardless of whatever talent she mimicked or mental shielding she used, and keyed it exclusively to Jean.

The innocent trust behind the gesture – from someone who had demonstrably no reason to trust anyone - brought tears to both the X-men. Jean gently took the offered control, projecting the fervent hope that it would never be needed. Jeryn smiled, relaxed, and let sleep claim her.

The whole team immediately assembled in the professor's office, and he briefed them on what had happened. There was a collective sigh of relief when he informed them of the control trigger she had given to Jean. Xavier commented, "I have no doubt that Cat is potentially a frighteningly powerful mutant, and will only become more so over time. I confess I'm relieved and astounded that she would give anyone that kind of power over her, given what little we know of her background."

Wolverine growled unhappily, "She took a hell of a risk. What if someone took over Jean's mind? If Cat was on the field team, they could knock her out instantly by controlling Jean."

The doctor shook her head vehemently. "I've checked the trigger. She was clever. It's totally dependent on my identity. If anyone were to take me over, it would alter my brainwaves and lock it out." Everyone was floored. They discussed the situation a bit more, but there wasn't much else to add. The group broke up, as it was getting quite late.

Scott extended an arm to Jean to escort her to their quarters, but to his surprise she declined. "You go ahead, Scott. I have some thinking to do. I'll join you in a while." He nodded, and left without comment. The exchange hadn't gone unnoticed, however.

As she headed down the hall in the opposite direction, she heard her mentor's familiar voice in her mind. _Problems, Jean?_

She reassured him, _No, not really. Just some things I need to sort through._

Charles' fond _Ah. Good night, then, _was a comfort to her. A comfort she badly needed.

Jean had a favorite 'thinking spot' on top of the western tower of the mansion. Most of the residents disliked making the long climb up the stairs, so it offered her relative privacy. She leaned on the parapet and looked out over the darkened grounds.

The telepath cherished a secret hope, deep within her soul. She didn't dare tell anyone, since there was an all too real possibility that making it known would give their enemies a powerful weapon to use against the X-Men. And for all its considerable power, it was a deceptively simple, even common, hope. Jean Gray wanted to be a mother someday. Wanted it with all her heart and soul. She fervently desired Scott to be the father of her children, but hadn't broached the subject with him for one very good reason; it was simply impossible to even consider it at the current time and climate.

Her interactions with Jeryn had brought those longings into strong relief and continued to do so. The fact that the teen had unhesitatingly trusted her with such a profound trigger moved her incredibly. There was no doubt that the girl had awakened all of Jean's motherly instincts – she wanted to hold the child, console her, protect her, help her wounds to heal, and see Cat grow up to be a happy, healthy person. Until the time finally came when having her own children would become a possibility, being with Jeryn was as close to that dream as she was likely to get. _She certainly needs help, regardless,_ the telepath thought. _Is it such a bad thing to let myself pretend, just for a little while?_

The stars above gave her no answer as they decorated the night sky above the mansion. She let herself smile into the darkness and turned to go seek out her lover, and her dreams.


	10. Talents

Xavier decided to conduct a test of Cat's abilities. Scott and Jean volunteered willingly when he explained what he wanted to try.

A couple of weeks after the disastrous parents' weekend, Charles had Cat copy Jean's abilities once more, this time with the objective of using the telepath's abilities to observe the X-Men's field captain as he did maintenance on and then operated their stealth jet, the Blackbird.

First they went to the real Blackbird in the underground hangar bay. The copycat observed Cyclops closely while he did maintenance on all the ship's systems. Jean was also linked in, to monitor both her lover and the young mutant. Scott joked about 'a hen party in his head' and received a playful admonitory swat in return for it.

Then they all trooped down to the simulator. Cyclops spent two hours executing routine operations while Jeryn watched his thoughts. After that, Storm played enemy combatant for them, running the field commander through every maneuver and trick that they could think of. It was late in the day by the time they finished. The real test to see what Jeryn had absorbed would come after her mimicking of Jean's powers had worn off. Accordingly, they assembled at the simulator the next day.

Jean confirmed that the mimicking was gone, and the X-Men left Jeryn alone in the simulator to repair to the control room. Scott thumbed the intercom, "All right, here's the deal. You've got injured personnel on board, no one's able to help you, and ground forces are going to reach you in one minute. You have 59 seconds to get into the air, or you're dead. Got it?"

Jeryn acknowledged the scenario. When she got the go-ahead, the teen began the simulation and went flawlessly through a normal pre-flight warm up and launch. Scott had her start again and this time threw minor complications into the simulation. She corrected for them perfectly.

He did it again and again, throwing ever-more complicated startup scenarios at her.

Jean and Xavier watched the girl calmly counter every glitch the field commander threw at her. "My God!" Jean exclaimed as the copycat executed a successful startup in spite of a nearly-blocked fuel line.

Xavier agreed, and sent to his protege, _You see now how dangerous she can be? _

Dr Gray was flummoxed, _Dangerous? _

The father of the X-Men affirmed, _Look at her, Jean. Thirty six hours ago, she'd never seen the cockpit of a jet. Let her mimic the correct talent, observe the right people, and look what happens. She's gone from total ignorance to total mastery in a day. She's as expert a pilot as Scott is, now. With her ability to creatively interpret what she experiences, I wouldn't be surprised to see her beat the simulation. _

In his desperation to trip her up, Scott threw everything he could at the novice pilot. Jeryn took one look at all the screaming telltales and hit the emergency kill switch. The simulator went dark for a full ten seconds. He was about to crow victory when it roared back into life at full power - and all the telltales had cleared. Another successful launch. The next day they started simulating flights. By midafternoon, Scott had Jeryn dogfighting multiple opponents and dodging missiles. The X-Men were flabbergasted at the young woman's abilities.

Her ability to absorb information was not the most critical piece of information they had gathered, though. The X-Men gathered in the Professor's office late in the evening after the conclusion of the test.

"You're certain she made absolutely no move on Scott's mind, outside of the test parameters?" Charles inquired.

Jean shook her head emphatically – and with a noticeable bit of pride in the girl. "Not once. I had him booby-trapped to a fare-thee-well. If she'd tried anything it would have knocked him out instantly."

"Gee, thanks for the warning," her lover commented sarcastically.

She ignored him. "Jeryn had every opportunity possible to try and pull something, but she didn't vary a millimeter from what she had Scott's permission to do."

"Highly encouraging," Xavier sighed with relief. "It's a welcome pleasure to be dealing with a mutant who has a proper set of ethics and morals. Cat is looking more and more promising."

His two eldest students agreed. "Now if we can only heal her psyche," was Dr Gray's wistful comment.

On one day nearly four months after joining Xavier's school, Jeryn walked out of the girls' dormitory on the second floor and proceeded down the grand staircase that led to the mansion's main foyer. It was the quickest route to her next class, and she was running a bit late.

She came around the curve in the stairway and was surprised to see an unfamiliar car pulling up in front of the main doors. She automatically evaluated the woman who stepped out of it; the immediate threat / friend assessment had become a habit that would be with her for life. The newcomer had long, raven-black hair and moved with a deadly grace that screamed _Killer!_ to Jeryn's nerves.

The teen froze in momentary shock as the visitor moved around the car and approached the entrance. The casual deliberateness of the woman's actions told Jeryn that the woman was no stranger to the school. Making a quick decision, Cat dumped her books for a moment and swiftly pulled off her gloves. She stuffed them hastily into her history text as the stranger bounded up the stone patio.

Jeryn ran down the staircase, arriving at the bottom just as the main doors opened. She was the only resident in sight; the others were already in their classrooms. She put a look of friendly, innocent puzzlement on her face just as the visitor came through the door and started looking around.

The lithe stranger stopped when she saw a teen with a huge armload of books – a student, obviously. The girl approached her and extended a hand in welcome, saying "Hi! I'm Jeryn. Can I help you? Are you here to see the Professor?"

The woman smiled and returned the gesture. "Yes, I am. My name is Betsy Braddock, and …." Her speech stopped when her hand had clasped the girl's. Betsy Braddock, also known as Psylocke, was a powerfully psi-talented mutant with the training and skills of a master ninja. The moment she had touched the child, she'd felt an explosion of psychic energy appear in front of her.

Psylocke cursed herself for her inattention; she'd been lulled by the peace of the familiar surroundings into dropping her psychic guard. She jumped away from the teen in a backwards somersault and landed in a fighting crouch. A muted hum sounded as a white blade of pure psionic energy erupted from around her right hand and wrist.

Jeryn's awareness had made a familiar expansion from three dimensions into four. Instead of having only her own voice in her head, it was as though the doors of a great cathedral had been thrown open. She heard the echoes of dozens of voices as the mental "chatter" of all the residents of the school made itself known to her. The schoolbooks clattered to the floor with a loud noise as her powers duplicated the unique "song" of Psylocke's mutant talent.

The copycat opened her eyes and looked at the ninja, who hadn't moved. The white energy blade gleamed in the shadowed hallway. Jeryn regarded it in amazement and brought her own right hand up and into a fist. She read Betsy's mutant "song" resonating in her own body, looked at the psionic blade again – and the same fire burst from her own hand.

Psylocke went cold all over at her adversary's display of talent. She was on tenterhooks, waiting for the girl to either attack or flee, when she heard an amused voice.

"So, I see you've met our Jeryn." Charles Xavier rolled his wheelchair into the foyer. Seeing the tension in his guest, he continued the introduction. "Betsy Braddock, meet our newest student, Jeryn. We call her the Copycat – for obvious reasons," he indicated the psionic blade extending from the teen's hand. "I confess I'm startled that she managed to surprise you successfully."

Relieved, Ms. Braddock dissipated the psionic blade and stood up from her fighting crouch.

"You and I both. I must be getting sloppy in my old age."

Xavier chuckled and turned to his student. "Jeryn, Miss Braddock is a ninja, and a mutant with rather formidable psychic abilities. She's worked with the X-Men on occasion. I asked her to stop by, since she was going to be in the area for a day or two."

Cat let the psionic blade dissipate and nodded. "I sensed she was dangerous by the way she moved when she got out of the car. I could tell she was familiar with the school, too. That can be a deadly combination. I thought if I could intercept and copy her I'd at least be able to delay her enough to raise an alarm if need be."

Psylocke was impressed. "Sound tactical thinking. And well executed. I didn't suspect a thing," she approved.

Jeryn bowed in acknowledgement of the praise and said rather sourly, "Sometimes the most familiar can be the most dangerous. You shouldn't let your guard down completely, not even when you think you're safe."

The Professor was intrigued. Jeryn's telepathic shields were active and full-force, so he couldn't read her thoughts, but the tone of her voice indicated that she'd had personal experience in the "familiar and dangerous" department. He filed the impression away for future reference. "In any case, Miss Braddock and I are going to repair to my study. I suggest you gather your books and join your class." The girl promptly excused herself and did so.

After classes were done for the day, Cat absented herself from her peers, pleading homework. But school assignments weren't on her mind. She closed and locked the door to her private rooms – she was still too keyed up from her fugitive's life to be comfortable sharing a room with another.

She walked into the center of the small living room and held up her fisted right hand. She focused on the energetic "song" inside her head that characterized Psylocke's powers. A meter-long psionic blade snapped into being around the hand and wrist. She noted the feel of the blade and tracked down the sensations in her mind that signaled the weapon's activity.

Jeryn let the energy dissipate while scrutinizing the accompanying sensations in her mind. Experimentally, she held up her left hand. She took the "active" sensations, and mirrored them to apply to the left side of her body, working consciously rather than from instinct this time. The blade successfully hummed into life again, this time on her left fist. She swung the fist a couple of times, getting used to the feel of the blade. Once again she "watched" the mental sensations that occurred as she released the energy, and nodded to herself as the now-expected process executed flawlessly.

Then she re-formed the psionic blade, and began setting triggers.


	11. Visitor

A few weeks later saw Cat striding down the hall intent on querying the headmaster, having no idea of the intrigue that would shortly ensnare her. She grasped the handles of his office doors without thinking and began her question before she had even registered who was in the room. "Professor, I..."

Her question died on her lips as soon as she recognized the presence of all the senior staff. If it had been only the staff, she would have simply excused herself. But a stranger was also present, a very odd looking stranger indeed. For a young woman who was used to odd-looking people, she found herself strangely tongue-tied. A long moment passed in which the staff observed Jeryn, and Cat and the stranger evaluated each other.

To everyone's astonishment the young woman's posture changed from simple open casualness to a fighting crouch. Her target was obviously the stranger standing next to Professor Xavier. Seeing his student's action and reaction, he held up a hand in a 'stop' gesture to comfort her and began to speak, "Jeryn, it's all right. You haven't met Lillandra. She is new here."

The professor's words did nothing to reassure the teenage mutant. The hackles on her neck were raised and a sense of wrongness coursed even more strongly through her body. To the staff's surprise Cat raised herself onto the balls of her feet in preparation for attack. "She's from further away than you think, professor," the young woman countered, "She's not human."

Shock and surprise went through the staff members. The outsider had not spoken a word. Cautiously, Professor Xavier lowered his hand; "I'm not sure what you mean, Jeryn. Lillandra is..."

His student interrupted him, "An alien, professor."

Cyclops gave an unconvincing snort, "An alien? That's ridiculous."

But Charles Xavier became very quiet and very focused on his pupil. "Why do you say that, Jeryn? What makes you think such a thing?"

To everyone's consternation, the young woman began slowly circling the perimeter of the room, obviously positioning herself delicately for attack or defense, though making no move to do either. Jeryn's nerves were screaming shrilly at her. She ignored the professor's question, instead hissing at him, "Professor, trust me, get away from her!"

Jean was as intently focused on the teenager as Xavier. "She means it, Professor."

Charles nodded his head in agreement, still eyeing the teen. He raised his hand in a comforting gesture, "Yes, Jeryn, you're correct. Lillandra is not of this world. She's here as my guest. She's been here before. It's all right." Puzzled, Cat relaxed and came slowly up out of her fighting posture.

The tall avian woman standing next to the professor spoke for the first time, with amusement in her voice. "It seems that even your young ones are fiercely loyal to you, Charles."

Cat looked directly at the stranger and informed her, "If you try to hurt him, I'll tear your throat out. I swear it."

Lillandra threw back her head and laughed delightedly, "A formidable guardian indeed."

The mentor of the X-Men waved his hand, "A more formidable guardian than you may think. Lillandra, may I introduce our Jeryn? We call her the Copycat. Jeryn, this is Lillandra of the Shi'ar."

The young mutant was not entirely reassured and kept her eyes on the stranger, asking, "What's she doing here? What business do aliens have with us? Don't we have enough trouble to deal with?"

The wild-haired man nearest the door chuckled in pleasure, "That's my girl!"

Jean threw Wolverine an exasperated look, complaining "Logan!"

The clawed mutant chuckled, "Well, can you blame her?"

Professor Xavier smiled even as he chided his friend "Logan, please."

The tall woman at Xavier's side raised her voice in question, "Copycat? What does that mean?"

The mentor of the X-Men gestured at his young student, "Jeryn's ability is to copy that of any mutant she touches."

Cat stood up straight and relaxed further, convinced by Xavier's explanation that the avian woman presented no threat. The father of the X-Men would never place one of his charges in jeopardy by advertising their capabilities to a hostile audience. Jeryn raised her hands towards the stranger to indicate the elbow high gloves that she wore. "Dr. McCoy figured out that when I touch another mutant my power reads their altered DNA structure and duplicates it."

Charles continued the explanation, "Whenever we touch a person, some of their skin cells rub off on us. For as long as those skin cells survive on her, Cat's mutant power causes her to duplicate that person's abilities."

Jeryn looked at Lillandra directly, "As soon as the last of the skin cells die, I lose that mutant's powers. The effect generally lasts about 24 hours. I can only mimic one mutant's ability at a time, though. I wear these gloves to prevent myself from duplicating someone's abilities accidentally."

The Shi'ar's eyes had grown thoughtful, "That could be quite a formidable talent, used appropriately."

The mimic nodded her head in acknowledgment, "Dr. Gray allowed me to copy her powers yesterday. It didn't wear off until early this morning, and what I was sensing caused me to question whether or not I was still copying her. I was coming to ask the professor if he could sense anything amiss..."

Lillandra's expression changed from thoughtfulness to shock, "Jean Gray is a powerful telepath!" She turned to Charles for an explanation.

He chuckled, "Our Cat is quite a remarkable young lady." He rolled his wheelchair out from behind the desk; the others in the room, now at their ease, automatically moved to accommodate him. "She passed out on our doorstep - and I mean that quite literally - about six months ago. Logan brought her to the infirmary, swearing she was at death's door. But nearly as soon as he got her to the clinic she was awake and speaking. It took us a while to find out why." Charles looked at the young woman fondly, "She wasn't being what you would exactly call cooperative at the time." Jeryn's face colored, and she looked down at her feet in embarrassment. He had closed the distance between himself and his student, and reached out and patted her hand, "Come now, it wasn't your fault."

Jean Gray spoke with equal fondness. "How could you know after all you had been through that you were finally safe?" she asked rhetorically.

The copycat picked her head up and looked at the father of the X-Men, who resumed speaking. "When she discovered that we could be trusted she admitted what her powers were. We immediately began training her." Charles looked at his student with pride. "She'd been through so much before coming to us that she already had a firm grasp of her abilities. We had her mimicking our physical mutant students right away."

Cyclops took up the narrative. "She mastered them all within a couple of months. Any expanded physical ability, she could utilize it instantly. Even thought up new uses that the copied mutants hadn't thought of! Wiped the practice floor with most of them."

Ororo Munroe stepped forward, "We had her copy me and she wound up flying circles around me after a week." Lillandra looked at the young mutant with growing respect.

Jeryn shrugged off the praise of her teachers. "I had to survive on my own for years before I found this place. Survival is a harsh taskmaster. You learn, or you die," she said softly. Memories intruded, causing her to stare unseeingly at the floor in front of her.

Professor Xavier reached out again and touched her glove gently to distract her from the memories that the haunted gaze betrayed. He spoke gently, "With God's grace, we will be able to change that one day."

Cat looked at her mentor with an expression of experience far out of place on one of her years. A few wordless seconds of communication passed between them. She smiled wistfully at his earnest expression and gave him a respectful neck bow. "With your permission then, sir?" Charles nodded without saying a word. Jeryn looked up at her teachers, meeting their fond looks with her own. Surprisingly, when she met Lillandra's thoughtful eyes she made a full formal bow from the waist. Without waiting to see the effect of her gesture she straightened up and left the room.

The effect was universal shock. Though Xavier had confirmed his guest's alien origin, no one had given Jeryn any additional information about the strange visitor. Or so they had thought.

Lillandra turned to the leader of the X-Men, demanding an explanation. "What did you tell her, Charles?"

He chuckled, and returned his wheelchair to its former position behind the desk. "Much less than you suspect."

Henry McCoy, fondly nicknamed Beast, spoke in consternation. "If no one told her anything, what made her do that? No one informed her that Lillandra is the Empress of the Shi'ar!"

The professor indicated that his colleagues should make themselves comfortable, resuming the interrupted discussion. He turned to speak to Lillandra, but was interrupted by Jean Gray's acidic comment, "Anyone want to bet that she knows Charles is Lillandra's consort?"

Xavier looked at Jean with an expression of exasperation, which she returned with an innocent face.

Logan, who was delighted, simply chuckled softly and declared "No bet!"

The Empress of the Shi'ar stared incredulously at her husband, again demanding an explanation. "What other powers does this Jeryn have, Charles?"

Xavier smiled and said softly "Aside from her mutant ability? Only her native intelligence, and an uncanny sense of observation. As she said, survival is a harsh taskmaster."

A steely _shing_ filled the room, and everyone looked at Wolverine, who had extended the adamantium claws embedded in his right arm. A tight fist balled his fingers as his friends watched. "What that girl's had done to her ... should be done to the kinda people who did it to her..." he said quietly.

Jean Gray looked at her friend with great sympathy and compassion "...and to you" she finished softly.

Wolverine shrugged, and retracted his claws. Everyone in the room knew that Wolverine's mutant ability was not his adamantium claws, but his ability to heal himself almost instantaneously from even fatal wounds. Atrocities by a group of military scientists had given him his metal frame. Only his mutant healing ability had permitted him to survive the process.

Lillandra turned to her consort with horror, "On ones so young, Charles?"

Xavier's expression became momentarily downcast. "Which is what makes me ever more determined in my resolve." He closed his eyes briefly as she squeezed his shoulder in sympathy. Horror stories like Wolverines - and Cat's - were unfortunately becoming all too common. He covered her hand with his own in gratitude. "Which is a subject for another time, and unrelated to the discussion at hand. How long can you stay?"

Her expression cleared, "Several days. The festival will continue for two of your weeks, and the government is mostly shut down, thank Sharra and Ky'thri." The professor smiled at the tone of exasperation in her voice. She continued, "If anyone needs me, they know to contact my ship."

Jean Gray looked at her friend fondly, "So you've managed to escape for a little while."

Lillandra shrugged, "As much as I ever can."

Professor Xavier again wheeled his chair out from behind his desk and into the center of the room. "Then we shall take full advantage of the time we are given." His friends and students stood up attentively.

Cyclops stated "We'll keep the home fires burning for you, professor."

Lillandra joined Charles in the center of the room and laid her hand on his shoulder. Xavier commented, "Don't hesitate to call the ship if you need me for anything." He and Lillandra disappeared in the glow of the Shi'ar's transporter effect.

Jean Gray said softly, "Don't worry, we won't."


	12. Proposal

Once aboard Lillandra's flagship, Charles transferred to the Shi'ar hoverlift that served him aboard instead of his wheelchair. They conversed casually as they proceeded to the Majestrix' quarters.

"So," the Imperial Consort inquired, "How do things stand in the Empire?"

Lillandra acknowledged the salutes of crewmembers passing by as she replied. "Much the same as always. Plotting, intrigue, alliances that shift with the wind. Pompous nobles who think they should be running the empire, merchants who _know_ they should be running the empire, religious that are convinced I need saving or slaying. Minor wars, famines, droughts, uncounted crises caused by idiots who couldn't manage to get themselves out the door in the morning without the assistance of an army of servants."

Xavier concluded softly, "And every one of them convinced that they are the Gods' gift to the universe, having the right to do whatever they wish to whomever they wish, because they are Shi'ar."

The majestrix winced at the accuracy of the observation. "Even so."

That evening over dinner Lillandra brought up the subject of Xavier's newest student. "Charles, your new student, Jeryn. What she said…."

The Professor leaned back in his chair. "Yes, it concerns me as well. It's obvious that she knows more than she's admitting. If we have a security leak, we must seal it immediately."

The majestrix nodded, still thoughtful. "Her ability intrigues me. You said that she can duplicate both power and physical aspects of an individual?"

Xavier confirmed, "We've tried her out on most of the mutants at the school, including the staff."

Lillandra seized on the opening that the statement provided. "Even your Dr. McCoy?"

The professor was puzzled by the avidity of the question. "Yes. Her mutant power made her a smaller, female version of Beast, but all his other characteristics were duplicated perfectly. Why do you ask?"

She toyed with her wineglass and paused before responding. "Do you think that her power would enable her to copy me?"

Xavier was floored by the question. "Copy you? What for? Why would you want her to do such a thing?"

The Shi'ar stood and began slowly pacing the floor. "You know that the nobles are becoming more and more agitated by the lack of an Imperial Heir, particularly a Neramani Shi'ar heir." Lillandra looked at her husband apologetically. "If your Jeryn could duplicate my appearance…."

Charles was astounded by her implication. "Pass Cat off as a Neramani Shi'ar?" he burst out incredulously.

The majestrix replied stubbornly, "If her ability lets her copy me exactly, a gene scan would confirm a Neramani Shi'ar. She's too old to be a clone."

Objections poured out of the Professor. "You're not a human mutant. She may not be able to copy you at all. The transformation would only last 24 hours. How would you explain her sudden appearance? How can you even _contemplate_ putting her in such a position?"

Lillandra regarded Xavier bleakly. "In my position, Charles, I have to consider _all_ possible options. You know that."

The Professor paused in shock. "Has the situation with the nobles become so desperate?" he asked quietly.

His wife hung her head, "Very nearly so. I've already had to move quietly against the more outspoken." The father of the X-Men was appalled. Lillandra continued, "Since there was nothing you could do about the nobles, I felt it unnecessary to trouble you further."

Xavier wrapped his wife in a telepathic hug. "You should have told me. If there was nothing I could do about the nobles, I could at least have helped you bear the burden."

She returned a telepathic wave of gratitude, but demurred. "There was no way to advise you of the situation without alerting my enemies."

Xavier was still seriously disturbed. "Lillandra, even if she could copy you, what you propose…."

The majestrix hastened to reply, "If she could pass as my younger sister, even for just a little while – a few months at most…." She let the sentence die out, then said quietly, "You know that the most likely diagnosis my physicians can come up with for my inability to conceive is stress." The Shi'ar looked at her husband, pleading for his understanding. "If she could get the nobles off my back for just a couple of months…."

Xaver had to concede the point, "It might permit your body to normalize enough to conceive. But Lillandra, the danger! What will the nobles do to her when they discover she's an imposter?"

She replied, "We'll return her to your Earth, the mimicking will wear off, and there will be no trace of the imposter left for the nobles to find!"

Xavier shook his head vehemently. "The child has been too traumatized. She isn't stable enough to carry off such an imposture, even for a short time. And the time limit on her ability…."

His wife interrupted, "Can be circumvented. If her power depends on living donor cells, then a small skin graft would provide a permanent supply. She could duplicate me for as long as necessary – and would revert as soon as the graft was removed."

Charles was astounded. It was a simple, elegant solution. "I can't ask her to do this, Lillandra. It's far too dangerous."

The majestrix looked at her consort unhappily. "I wish it were unnecessary, Charles, I truly do. But according to your culture and mine, she is of legal age. The choice is hers to make, not yours." She had to look away from him. "I appreciate that you are trying to protect the child. At the same time I must point out that no one on your planet will be safe if a Shi'ar galactic civil war breaks out. You know very well that there are those among my people who would welcome any excuse to destroy Earth, because of you. How will you keep her safe then?"

Xavier was appalled. "What would you have me do?"

His wife looked at him with a plea in her eyes. "Only permit me to speak with her. Allow me to inform her of our situation. The decision will be hers entirely, I promise you."

Faced with that, the Professor could hardly argue. "We will both speak with her, then," he conceded unhappily. "It must be made clear to her how dangerous this situation would be."

Lillandra was incredibly relieved. She crossed the room to hug him fervently, "Thank you, my love, thank you."


	13. Pulling Teeth

A surprise awaited Jeryn the next day. She had joined her classmates in the dining hall for breakfast as usual and looked up from the honey she was slathering on her toast when the door opened. She was thunderstruck to see Charles and Lillandra casually entering the room. Her immobility surprised her seatmate, Wolf. He turned to find out what was so interesting, and simply shrugged when he saw the headmaster and his companion. He cheerfully reached for another sausage while dismissing the sight. "It's the bird-woman again. Guess you haven't seen her before."

A couple of the girls at the table further astounded Jeryn by waving casually to Xavier's companion, who returned the gesture. Seeing Cat's expression, Wolf explained, "She's headmistress of another school. Overseas, I think. Doesn't come here but once or twice a year. Think the Professor's sweet on her, though."

The girls at the table giggled, scandalized. "Wolf! Keep your voice down!"

The boy shrugged unconcernedly and returned his attention to his breakfast. "Neither here nor there to me. Mutant's a mutant, to my way of thinking. Though if she's as good a headmaster as our Professor Xavier, there's a lucky bunch of mutants in her country." There was a heartfelt round of agreement from the group at the table.

Trying her best to minimize her shocked expression, Jeryn looked at Jean Gray, who was seated at the head table. The flame-haired telepath saw Cat direct her gaze at Lillandra incredulously, and return it to her with question marks written all over her face. It took a considerable effort of will not to smile, but Jean managed to return a challenging "So what?" expression back at her student. Jeryn shook her head unbelievingly and refocused on her breakfast. Amused, Jean shot a thought at the Professor, who turned to her in inquiry. Jean indicated Cat - who was still shaking her head over her breakfast - with her chin, and sent the professor the gist of the communication in a telepathic burst. She saw a small smile come over her mentor's face as she returned her attention to her own meal.

Jeryn finished her meal and placed her dishes in the dumbwaiter, and was about to go fetch her books for Beast's biology class when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Cyclops was completely taken by surprise by the roundhouse punch to the jaw that would have sent his glasses flying if they hadn't been so carefully designed. When he got his head facing forward again he decided to count himself lucky that the mimic had been able to pull the knee to his groin _before_ that blow had landed.

Professor Xavier and Lillandra were standing behind the field team's captain. Scott rubbed his jaw gingerly and indicated the pair. "The Professor would like to speak with you. You've been excused from your morning's classes."

Cat saw Dr. Gray at the rear of the group, smirking at her young friend. It was the teenager's turn to be exasperated. It was obvious that the telepath had passed on the earlier exchange. "Certainly, sir." Jeryn replied obligingly, and followed the instructors out of the dining hall.

Unsurprisingly, the group proceeded to Professor Xavier's office. Scott indicated that Cat should seat herself as he closed the great office doors behind her. She perched on the edge of an overstuffed armchair, just as much on edge as she had been on her previous visit. Cyclops crossed the room to stand by Jean, and Lillandra stood behind the desk with Xavier. No one else was present.

It distressed Dr. Gray to see her young charge so obviously uptight, and she shot a quick warning glance at the father of the X-Men. "Relax, Jeryn. You're not in trouble, and no one's going to hurt you. We just want to ask you a few things."

Charles was startled but managed not to show it. Jean was quite correct; as he tuned in to his student he was surprised to sense exactly how nervous Cat was. The majestrix' hand on his shoulder affirmed her awareness as well. "Quite right. Just curious, and hoping you can shed some light on the situation for us." He was relieved to see the girl relax marginally.

An expression of puzzlement came into the young woman's face. "I'm certainly willing to help, sir..." her voice trailed off uncertainly, indicating her doubt of the value of her assistance.

Xavier took the situation in hand. "Splendid! Now, I'd like to discuss the meeting we had here a couple of days ago. You did something that we didn't expect. We'd like to know why." He looked at his student measuringly, as did Lillandra. The increase in focus was unmistakable, and Jeryn carefully rose from her chair in response to it. The tension had returned twofold, and she slowly sidled around and behind the chair in an obviously defensive gesture.

Lillandra reacted strongly, to Charles' surprise - and reached out with one hand in entreaty. "Truly, child, we wish you no harm. We simply ... must know" she finished lamely.

To everyone's surprise, Cat turned to Jean Gray and looked into her face pleadingly. The telepath nodded encouragement to her charge. "Please, Jeryn. There's ... a situation going on that you don't know about. We think you may be able to help, but you'll have to tell us everything you know. _Everything_" she stressed.

Jeryn stared at the redhead for a long time. Then she looked at the others. Lillandra's whole attitude was one of pleading; Charles was exerting incredible control to keep himself in check; Cyclops couldn't even look at her. No one made any overt or covert move to threaten her in any way. Then a soft mental whisper reached her mind from Xavier; _Please. Trust us._

She matched his gaze, stare for stare. After nearly a minute, she closed her eyes, dropped her shoulders, and exhaled. "You know my mutant power is to copy other mutant's abilities," she began, speaking with her eyes closed. "But I haven't told you that my natural senses are as developed as Wolverine's. My sight, smell, touch, and hearing are as sensitive as his."

Xavier nodded; it made sense, given what little he knew. "And what have your senses told you?"

Jeryn hung her head and looked at the floor to her side; she couldn't face her mentor. "She is a sovereign ruler; she's used to leading others. The two of you are mates, but something powerful is keeping you apart. Something beyond her kingdom and your determination to create peace between mutants and humans. The situation in her land is stable, but unsettled. Others challenge her power. Powerful others. Some of her nobles, I'd expect. She's highly distressed about a matter that's very personal between the two of you."

Charles was nonplussed; he could feel his jaw dropping, metaphorically speaking. A non-telepath had been able to deduce so much from simple observation? He could sense a similar state in Lillandra. Jean and Scott were simply shocked. Yet Jeryn hadn't finished.

"You're distressed because you haven't been able to help her. The X-Men haven't been able to help her. She's essentially alone." Eyes closed, Jeryn raised her head as if listening, or scenting something in the air. A small smile crossed her face. "You're hoping that I can help, that my mimicking ability can help you - that I can help her by copying someone. A physical copying, not a power duplication. You don't want others to know about it, though." She seemed to come to a conclusion, and opened her eyes in startlement. "You want me to mimic her. It's an infiltration mission, isn't it?"

Both Lillandra and Jean had their hands covering open mouths in shock. Cyclops was speechless. So was Xavier. Sensing the shift in the room's tension, Jeryn relaxed and sat down in the chair. The Majestrix was grasping Charles' shoulder so hard that the grip had to be painful. It was obvious that telepathic communication was flying back and forth between them. Jean Gray was openly crying, first looking joyfully at Charles and Lillandra and then approvingly at Jeryn.

Xavier closed his eyes and thought to himself, _If Logan were here, he'd be clapping his hands in glee. _He nodded in response to his wife's unspoken entreaty and came to a decision. He opened eyes damp with tears and began explaining.

"Lillandra is the ruler of the Shi'ar Galactic Empire, to which Earth belongs. I am her consort. The Shi'ar have a strong sense of racial purity. Most of her nobles do not approve of our liaison. She refuses to take another consort. While the situation is currently stable, it will not long remain so without an heir to the throne. If Lillandra does not produce an heir of her body - which we have been unable to do - the Empire will go to her elder sister Deathbird."

Cyclops nearly spat in disgust, "A war-mongering, evil, power-hungry dictator that makes Hitler look like Santa Claus."

Charles nodded in confirmation, "Even so."

Lillandra exclaimed emphatically, "She cannot be allowed to inherit the throne! She's already abdicated it once. Most of my nobles care for the idea as little as I. The galaxy would devolve into total anarchy and bloodshed!"

Jeryn rose and began pacing the room thoughtfully in front of the Professor's desk as she absorbed this flood of information. When it paused, she addressed the galactic ruler with an embarrassed voice. "Your Grace, I beg you to forgive my impertinence, but this is a critical point. How long have you been trying to conceive?" The formal address sounded oddly natural from the girl.

Lillandra's shoulders drooped in sorrow. "Three years." Xavier covered her hand with his own in an attempt to comfort her.

Jeryn focused her attention inward, in thought. "The difficulty would lie in the cross-species difference…."

The professor looked up at his student. "Doctor McCoy and the best geneticists of the Shi'ar have been working on it for years. All the data say that it should be possible, but..." he trailed off, his wife's slimness making the conclusion obvious.

The Shi'ar's expression became desperate, "All we need is more time..."

The teen paused for a moment with an expression on her face suggesting that she'd bitten into something rotten. Jean noticed it, and was worried. "Jeryn, what's wrong?"

The others instantly looked at the young mutant, who regarded the group with bitterness in her eyes. "Forgive me for being brutally blunt Your Grace, but given your peoples' feelings about this subject - even if you did conceive a child by Professor Xavier - would they not refuse to accept a 'mongrel' on the throne?" Cat couldn't look Lillandra in the face and stared at the floor as she voiced her conclusion.

The X-Men looked at each other in shock. Lillandra appeared as though she'd been heart-wounded. "It is my belief...that you are correct, young friend," she admitted softly. Charles glared at Lillandra appalled, as though she had slapped him. Before he could say anything, Jeryn walked directly towards the Shi'ar Empress, causing her to stare at the mutant.

Cat stopped only when the desk blocked her path. Not three feet separated her from the galactic ruler. "Then I must know why. Woman to woman. If I am to risk my life, I must know why you are willing to risk galactic upheaval. I must know your price. For what reason would you pit an entire species against itself?"

Lillandra's misery had reached its apex. The young woman in front of her had asked a valid question and could not be denied the answer. She was going to sound like such a fool. The Imperial Majestrix of the Shi'ar Galactic Empire would sound like a simple, unvarnished fool. How could she not? The teen simply waited for her response. Nothing would proceed until she was answered. Lillandra's shoulders slumped in defeat. With tears pouring from her eyes, she said softly "I want his child." She bowed her head and looked away from the girl, crying quietly.

Charles reached out to his wife, but to everyone's shock Jeryn intervened. She stayed his hand with her own and then - unbelievingly - reached out and took Lillandra's chin and forced the empress to look at her - an action which by Shi'ar law would cost Jeryn her life if the any of the majestrix's subjects found out about it.

Cat's eyes almost glowed with hawklike concentration as her gaze bored into the older woman's face. "_His_ _child?_ Not an heir to the throne?"

The rapid-fire questions puzzled Lillandra, and she answered without thinking. "If I were the lowest Shi'ar alive, I would still do all within my power to bear his child." The teen dropped her hand, letting the woman's gaze drop to the ground again.

Charles was in emotional agony and gathered his wife quickly into his arms, attempting to comfort her. He rounded on his student angrily. "Why are you asking these questions? What good is such an answer?"

Jeryn was surprisingly unaffected by his rage. She spoke softly, pitching her voice to carry to the empress's ears. "Because it's the right answer - the only answer worth risking lives for." The response sounded odd, coming from so young an individual.

Lillandra's crying stopped, and she looked up at Cat incredulously. The fierce focus was gone from Jeryn's face, and the mutant smiled comfortingly at the Shi'ar. "You have asked for my help, when others of your station would have commanded it without a second thought. Your power has not corrupted you. You gave me the information I required, when others would have prevaricated. Your desire is strong, and true. And most of all, you do not wish to thrust such a burden onto a helpless child out of whim or duty, but out of love."

To the utter astonishment of everyone present, Jeryn took a step backwards and then went to one knee in front of the desk. She bowed her head and said clearly, "I am honored by your request and your desire, Majestrix. I welcome the chance to repay the kindnesses your consort has done me. I will gladly help you."


	14. Conspiracy

Lillandra's breath caught in her throat and she would have embraced Jeryn then and there if not for Charles' hand on her arm, reminding her. Her tears had changed to those of joy - Jean was openly crying as well - as she replied simply "Thank you."

Cat nodded and stood up. "The plan?"

Xavier responded "It is our belief - our hope - that your mutant power will allow you to mimic Lillandra. In theory, if we were to perform a skin graft from her to you..."

Jeryn finished the thought "With a permanent colony of her skin cells, my power should copy her perpetually. In theory." She began pacing the floor again as Lillandra continued.

"My parents' ship disappeared in this sector of space many years ago. It was never found. We thought that we could 'arrange' for the X-Men to find you in some remote area of this planet, a shipwreck survivor. Of course, they would recognize a Shi'ar, and bring you to Charles. He would recognize my clan markings." Lillandra traced the swirling lines on her face in explanation.

Cat thought out loud, "And of course, a DNA scan would confirm my being Shi'ar." She winced as a snag occurred to her, "Though it would be awkward, trying to explain why my DNA was an exact duplicate of yours. They'd think I was a clone, or something."

The Majestrix hastened to reassure her. "Even our science has never successfully produced a clone that lived more than four of your years. Your age alone negates that explanation."

The teen digested that thought and resumed pacing. Another idea struck her, and her eyes went wide with the implications of it. Xavier inquired "What is it, Jeryn?"

It took a few moments for the ramifications of the inspiration to settle themselves into the girl's mind. When they had, she turned to look at the Professor. "Do you realize" she said slowly "that my ability to mimic Lillandra - if I can - could definitively answer whether or not you two can produce a child?"

The Shi'ar empress went white. "What do you mean?"

Jeryn focused inward in order to get her thoughts in proper order. "I can't mimic normal humans. My ability can lock on to them genetically, but there's nothing altered there for it to duplicate. But you're not human." She raised her gaze to Xavier "My ability only mimics _mutated_ humans. If my power lets me copy your wife..."

Charles interrupted as her train of thought became clear "Your power would interpret her to be a human mutant. Then the key to producing a hybrid would most likely lie among the _mutated human_ genes. _My_ genes."

The teen nodded in agreement. "But if I can't copy her..."

Jean voiced the conclusion that no one wanted to hear. "Then your ability doesn't have enough of a similar genetic structure to lock on to, and the whole thing falls apart. Meaning that there likely isn't enough genetic similarity between human and Shi'ar to produce a crossbreed," she concluded unhappily.

A sepulchral silence settled over the room. Finally, Jeryn herself broke it with a heavy exhalation. "Well, there's only one way to find out." To everyone's surprise, she firmly grasped the glove covering her right hand and pulled it off.

Scott was amazed. "You don't mean to copy her here and now?"

Cat shrugged in an attempt to cover nervousness. "Might as well. No sense making all kinds of plans if they're just going to go up in smoke. Empress?"

Lillandra was as white as a ghost. In a small voice, she forced herself to ask "What must I do?"

Jeryn smiled in an attempt at encouragement. "To just test whether or not my power can do this, all that's needed is for your skin to touch mine." She offered the back of her bare hand, and Lillandra came around the desk. Before the Shi'ar could touch her, Jeryn spoke to Xavier. "Professor, if this room has any sound shields, it'd be best to put them up. If it doesn't, you and Dr. Gray had better create them yourselves." She looked speculatively at the winged woman who now stood before her. "If this works, my ability is going to read this as a physical-mutant transformation. It won't be...comfortable for me."

Lillandra's eyes went wide. "Will this hurt you?"

A rueful smile came over the young woman's face. "Unimportant" she softly declared.

The Majestrix' gaze firmed, and she replied "I will remember it, nevertheless."

Jeryn made her a neck bow, then queried "Professor?"

Schooling himself to discipline, Xavier centered himself and reached out to his protégé with the ease of much practice. Between them, they erected an energetic sphere that surrounded the two women in the middle of the room. When it was ready, he opened his eyes and nodded at his pupil.

Cat exhaled explosively and turned to Lillandra. "It only requires a moment's touch. As soon as you've done it, back away from me." She extended her hand firmly, not allowing the Shi'ar time to question. Almost reflexively, Lillandra covered Jeryn's hand with her own - then jumped backwards in alarm as the young woman dropped to the floor, screaming in pain.

Everyone echoed the empress's movement - even Charles jumped in his wheelchair. The mutant's hands were clamped to either side of her head. She fell to the floor and curled up into a fetal ball in front of Xavier's desk and was thrashing as violently as if she were being attacked.

Jean screamed at the Professor "It's killing her! Do something!" Lillandra looked on in horror. Jeryn's screams filled the room for a full thirty seconds - and then were cut abruptly off as she went totally limp.

Cyclops moved as if to pick up the young woman, but Charles intervened "Wait! Look!"

Before their eyes, an amazing process began occurring. Jeryn's chestnut-brown hair seemed to melt, and then resolidify into chestnut-brown feathers. Her face - indeed, her entire body - elongated, becoming thinner. A delicate tracery - an exact duplicate of that on Lillandra - appeared on her cheeks. On the outside of her arms a row of feathers matching the chestnut-brown of her head appeared. All they could do was wait until the changes had run their course. Jean gave Charles a pleading glance, and he finally nodded his head. Dr. Gray and the Majestrix pounced on the young woman and sat her up.

Jean chafed the girl's wrists, not daring to intrude psychically lest internal changes were still happening. "Come on, Jeryn, come on, girl. Wake up, now. Come back to us." Getting no response, she turned to Cyclops. "Scott, give me your jacket."

As the requested garment was hurriedly handed over, Lillandra asked urgently "Is she all right?"

Jean covered as much of the girl as she could. "I don't know yet." She reached forward to lift an eyelid. The eye beneath was mostly pupil, making her swear softly.

Scott was concerned. "Bad?"

The telepath rubbed her hands together swiftly. "And getting worse. I have to go into her mind and pull her out of it."

Charles' wife was concerned. "Should you do that?"

Jean looked up at Xavier sharply. "It'll be worse for her if I don't". She closed her eyes, extended her hands to the young mutant's temples, and opened herself to the telepathic energies. What she encountered rocked her backwards as if she'd been struck. The cause for Jeryn's distress became obvious. _Damn!_ Jean swore to herself. _We were so concerned about the physical transformation, we didn't stop to think. Lillandra's a natural telepath - as strong as Charles! Jeryn's mimicking ability is duplicating her telepathic power as well as her physical body!_

Fortunately, Jean was able to assist. She carefully guided the wildly chaotic flows in the mutant's mind so that they settled into orderly paths, one by one. After the fourth stream was properly settled, Jeryn's own psyche started to assist the process. Slowly at first and then more swiftly, the energy flows snapped into regular pathways. Power began to hum in unison instead of shrieking in cacophony. To her great relief, Jean was able to mentally 'sit back' and let the process complete itself. As the power flows synchronized, a strong psychic presence manifested in front of her. She surfaced from her own trance to see the girl's eyes finally fluttering open. With a sigh of relief, the redhead sat back on her heels. "Welcome back. How are you feeling?"

Cat made a sound in her throat that was halfway between a chuckle and a retch. With a weak attempt at a joke she replied, "Next time I'd rather spend a day riding rollercoasters with Logan, thanks." The relief in the room was palpable.

Jean gestured to Scott "Let's get her up on the couch." As soon as they had her there Jean handed him his jacket back. A storage chest in the corner of the room opened and a thick wool blanket floated across the room, buoyed by the telepath's psychokinetic energy. The cover was swiftly tucked in around the teen.

Lillandra propped the girl's head up with a small pillow. The Shi'ar empress was concerned. "Are you going to be all right?"

Jeryn snorted weakly. "I wouldn't recommend doing this every day just for kicks." Despite their concern the X-Men chuckled. Recognizing that Lillandra didn't get the joke, the mutant managed "I'll be fine, after I rest."

Jean Gray extended a hand to touch her young friend between the eyebrows. "Then rest you will, young lady." Cat's eyes immediately closed and she let out a small sigh as the gentle compulsion to sleep took hold. Jean monitored her for a few seconds and set up enough shields to ensure that nothing untoward would occur, then motioned to the others. They gathered on the far side of the room.

Cyclops was the first to speak. "Jean?" he inquired anxiously.

The telepath ran a wearied hand through her vivid red hair. "Her power's definitely made the change. It thought that Lillandra's telepathic abilities were a mutant power and copied that too. I bet Jeryn didn't expect that her ability would copy that as well - she wound up going through **both** a physical and power change at once. But she is all right. Just tired." Reassured, they looked over at their young friend.

The Shi'ar empress was appalled by the process' side effects. "To go through such agony at so little a touch! Is that normal for her?"

Xavier spoke quietly. "Dr McCoy said that she experienced some discomfort when she copied him, but he indicated nothing on this scale."

Jean took charge of the situation, saying "In any case, we can ask her when she wakes up. Lillandra, I'm sure you've been shaken by all this. Professor, why don't you escort her to her quarters on the ship for a while? I'm sure she could use a rest. Scott and I will stay and watch Jeryn."

Xavier gave Jean a grateful glance. "An excellent suggestion. Come rest for a while Lillandra, I'm certain you're tired." His wife gave in reluctantly, but allowed herself to be persuaded. They left the room via Shi'ar transporter.

Jean flopped bonelessly into an armchair, half spent herself. Cyclops poured a large glass of water from a nearby pitcher and passed it to her. He indicated their sleeping friend. "Do you think she can pull it off?"

The redhead drained half the glass and sighed heavily at her lover. "I don't know, Scott. I just don't know."


	15. Altered

Much subdued, Lillandra allowed Charles to steer her to her shipboard quarters. She assisted him out of his hoverlift onto their bed and pulled the covers up around them before snuggling into the crook of his arm. He gently caressed her face with the back of his fingers. "You're troubled" he stated softly.

"How could I not be?" Lillandra looked at her mate with a pained expression. "The agony she went through, Charles! How can I ask her to go through that?"

Xavier hugged his wife comfortingly, "You haven't asked, love. She volunteered. It's her own decision. She's free to accept or refuse as she will."

The empress mulled over the encounter in her mind for a while, reviewing what had occurred. "Charles, she knew so much about us..."

The Professor sighed, "I know. It disturbs me as well. Her explanation doesn't account for all of the information she gave us. When she wakes, we must ask her how she discovered so much." He was replaying the interview in his mind also. "Lillandra, do you remember what Jeryn said? That if her powers could mimic you..."

The Shi'ar sat bolt upright "That it could confirm that we **can** have a child!" She dropped onto her husband's chest and hugged him fiercely in renewed hope. He returned the gesture, praying fervently that such would be the case.

Cat awoke two hours later with the odd sensations of physical disorientation that told her that the transformation had been successful. Unexpectedly, a foreign thought entered her awareness. _How are you feeling?_ Her eyes snapped open; she was instantly aware that the originator of the thought was Jean Gray, but to her astonishment it also carried the full "octave" of accompanying mental sensations that clearly indicated a telepath-mimicking. Jeryn's instinctive "_!"_ mental broadcast was loud and clear.

The redhead chuckled in response to it. "Looks like you figured out what's happened."

Scott had come to Jean's side at her first spoken word and perched on the arm of the couch. He watched as the young woman sat up cautiously, obviously testing the oddness of her altered form. Jeryn extended her arms in front of her, making an involuntary "Oh!" when she saw the feathers lining the outside of her arms. Her teachers watched the feathers awkwardly extend and retract as Cat accustomed herself to the unfamiliar musculature.

Jean saw the feathers on Jeryn's upper arms bind up as they encountered the girl's tee shirt. "Wait a minute." She retrieved a pair of scissors from the Professor's desk and made two careful cuts up the rear of the arms. "Better?" The teen carefully extended the arm feathers, then nodded. Dr Gray saw the girl then arch her back in discomfort and easily guessed the reason. "Looks like we should have Lillandra bring a spare outfit of hers down from the ship. Human clothing wasn't designed with wings in mind."

Jeryn nodded thoughtfully and held her hand out for the scissors. Using them carefully she cut away the legs of her jeans, well above the knees. She put the scissors down and then slowly stood up, kicking her socks and sneakers off as well.

The X-Men saw that she now had the Shi'ar altered feet and leg feathers. Jeryn gently raised her arms above her head and stretched, wincing as her bound wings encountered resistance. Jean smiled. "Here, let me help." The telepath unobtrusively removed the offending article of clothing. The mimic was still unable to extend her wings, but the relief at having them no longer bound was considerable.

Jean looked at her charge with a calculating gaze. "Well, it certainly looks like you could fly. Not that we'd want you to try it right now." she commented. "And you certainly have Lillandra's clan-marking."

Jeryn's hands went cautiously to her face and head. "Does it look right?"

Scott obligingly gestured, "See for yourself. There's a mirror over there."

The young mutant walked over to the mirror and observed the changes. She gently smoothed the short crest feathers on top of her head. To her friends' surprise, Cat frowned. "It didn't work right!" she exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" Jean exclaimed, taken aback by the statement.

Scott was also nonplussed "You've obviously changed to a Shi'ar."

"But look at me! My face – I look almost like myself! Look at this!" Jeryn extended her arm vanes slightly. Rich brown feathers with ebon markings caught the light. She looked at her teachers, highly upset. "Except for gender and mass, my power has always done an _**exact**_ physical copy before. Lillandra's feathers are _**solid black!**_ Something's gone wrong!"

With a sinking feeling in her gut, Jean realized that the copycat was correct. "Hang on. Let's get the Professor and Lillandra in here. Maybe they can explain it." The young mutant unhappily began a more thorough inventory of herself while Jean sent a telepathic call to the Shi'ar ship. _Professor, are you awake? We need you and Lillandra down here. _

Reassuringly, the answer was immediate. _We're here, Jean. Is there a problem ?_

Jean closed her eyes to block out the sight of the upset young woman and better focus on the thoughts she was sending. _Something strange has happened with Jeryn's transformation. She's obviously Shi'ar, telepathy and all, but there are some odd discrepancies. Come down as quickly as you can, and have Lillandra bring one of her spare outfits. Jeryn's getting seriously upset - I have to calm her down._

A wordless sense of agreement came back in reply, and the connection was severed. Jean began projecting a soothing thought flow at her friend. "Jeryn, is it possible that your transformation is still in progress?" she said, trying to get the girl to stop emoting and start thinking.

Cat's eyes went blank as she did an internal evaluation; she shook her head. "No. It's finished. I don't know how this could have happened! I didn't do anything!"

At Jean's prompting, Scott came over and took the young woman by the arm. "Of course you didn't. I'm sure this all has a reasonable explanation. Come on and sit down for a bit, and when the Professor gets here we'll figure out what happened." He steered the unhappy mutant back over to the couch. The redhead handed her friend a hastily refilled water glass and made her drink it all. Cyclops draped the blanket over the girl's shoulders to keep her warm.

It didn't take long for Lillandra and Xavier to return. A ball of light in the center of the room marked the Shi'ar transporter and left the two of them behind as the glare faded out. The majestrix came forward quickly, concern written all over her face. "What has happened? Is Jeryn all right?" She strode over to the couch when she saw the teen awake and sitting up.

Jean quickly intervened. "She's fine, just a little unsettled is all. First things first - did you bring clothing with you?" Lillandra reluctantly handed over the outfit she had brought, which Jean took. "Let me help Jeryn change, and then we'll all sit down and discuss this." She firmly took the youngster by the shoulder and steered her across the office to an attached bathroom. Shielding her thoughts tightly, for she wanted neither the empress nor Jeryn to pick up on it, she sent a thought-burst at Xavier. _What's wrong with her? Calm her down! Cat's half-hysteric as it is - we don't need Lillandra going over the edge on us!_

Xavier took his wife's hand when she would have followed the two women and spoke to her comfortingly. "Take it easy, love, we don't want to upset the girl. Have a seat here. She'll be back in a minute." The Shi'ar reluctantly complied.

It wasn't long before the pair reappeared, Jeryn now clad in the bodysuit that the empress had provided. Jean steered her into the center of the room. "Now, let's all sit down and..."

A piercing shriek filled the air.

Jeryn had taken advantage of the freedom that the Shi'ar clothing provided to extend her wings in a full stretch for the first time. Rich brown feathers patterned in black filled the center of the room. The shriek, which had come from Lillandra, made Cat instinctively retract her wings and drop into a fighting crouch. Wild-eyed in alarm, the young mutant frantically scanned the room for a threat.

Charles yelled "HOLD!" at the top of voice and mind to halt everyone before the situation could deteriorate further. Jeryn winced in pain at the telepathic shout and reflexively covered her ears with her hands, trembling with tension.

Xavier quickly wheeled his chair over to his wife. "Everyone, just...hold! Calm down! Lillandra, what has frightened you so?" For the Shi'ar empress was shaking from head to foot in shock.

She pointed at the younger woman and said in a near-whisper "Charles, didn't you see it? Her wings..."

Dr. Gray was holding her charge, trying to comfort the girl, and replied, "They're brown instead of black. We know, that's why we needed to speak to you."

She stopped as the Shi'ar shook her head in negation. "Not the color - _the pattern!_ Charles, didn't you recognize it?"

The Professor frowned. Things had happened so quickly that it hadn't really registered. "No, Lillandra. I didn't have enough time to look at it."

His wife grasped his arm and pointed at the girl. "Make her extend her wings again! You'll see..."

Xavier looked to Jean Gray, who frowned. "Just don't scream again, all right? We're all nervous enough as it is!" The empress nodded in agreement.

Jean helped her friend to stand up. "Okay, Jeryn, everything's all right. You just startled her, that's all."

The teen's voice was shaking with stress. "She startled the hell out of me too, screaming like that!" Dr. Gray smiled at the exasperated tone of voice, despite the tension. She made a quick telepathic connection with Xavier to verify that the professor was keeping Lillandra contained. Cat stood up straight, and did an all-over shiver.

Jean spoke softly, encouraging the teen. "That's it. Now. Slowly, gently, spread your wings again. That's right, a little at a time..." Reluctantly, Jeryn extended the wings bit by bit.

Lillandra became fascinated as the chestnut and black feathers again spread out. She craned her neck, obviously looking for something specific. Everyone's curiosity was aroused, trying to determine what she was so interested in.

Finally, the copycat neared her full wingspread, and the empress pointed at her in triumph. "There! See? Look at that!" Everyone eyed the teenager curiously.

Xavier was still puzzled. "I don't see anything unusual..."

Cyclops chimed in "Me neither."

Lillandra spoke imperiously to Jeryn. "Turn around!" she commanded, making a circling gesture with her hand.

Compliantly the teen turned, "Am I bald back there? I feel like I'm naked or something. What are you looking at?"

The great wings rotated as she moved and the pattern on them finally came into Xavier's full view. His wife hissed at him. "The Temple doors, Charles! Remember?"

The Professor's mind instantly referenced the great High Temple on the Shi'ar homeworld. The Temple where he and Lillandra - over the objections of many - had exchanged consort vows. The great golden doors filled his mind's eye. Two fifty-meter-high panels adorned with two great symbols outlined in precious jewels. The symbols of Sharra, the Shi'ar Goddess, and Ky'thri, the Shi'ar God. "Oh my God..." escaped from Charles' lips.

The black symbols on Jeryn's wings were an exact match.


	16. Plan

Jeryn didn't react well to the news. "I've got WHAT on my back?" Xavier hastily explained the meaning of the designs. Her wings folded, and she abruptly sat down with an ungraceful thud in the middle of the office floor. She drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them, beginning to shiver.

Jean shot a warning glance at the others. Unprompted, Scott threw the wool blanket across the room and she quickly wrapped it around the girl's body. _Professor,_ she thought at her mentor _we mustn't let her dwell on this. Between the transformation-reaction and the altered copying, she's half in shock as it is. We've got to get her mind engaged, keep it occupied until she's settled down more._

Taking himself in hand, Xavier responded verbally. "Right." He maneuvered his wheelchair around to face the young mutant head-on. Of necessity, Jeryn had to watch where the chair was going. Charles' voice got her attention as he continued. "Let's disregard this for just a moment and focus on the task at hand. Obviously, the transformation was successful. For the most part" he added hastily. "So. Jeryn can transform into a Shi'ar of Lillandra's blood-clan, and there's a good chance that the Empress and I **are** capable of having a child together."

As Jean hoped, this summary helped the teen to focus herself. She nodded in automatic agreement. "We should probably have Dr. McCoy do some genetic tests on me to ensure that there aren't any gross discrepancies that could trip us up," she said, thinking of the obvious anomalies.

Xavier didn't allow her to dwell on them. "Right. Scott, go fetch Henry. Brief him, and bring him here with whatever equipment he needs." Cyclops was on his way out the door before his mentor had finished speaking.

The Professor hastened to engage the girl's mind again. "So let's assume the foundation of our plan is sound. Now. We had hypothesized presenting you to the Shi'ar as a shipwreck survivor..."

Jeryn shivered again to bring her scattered wits together. "That could work...but the first question would be...where's the ship?"

Relieved, Jean offered "We have a Shi'ar scout ship in the hangar bay."

"Yes!" Xavier seconded "Just the thing! We could place it in a remote area, say we found you in it..." His voice trailed off as Cat shook her head in negation.

"No good. I'm sure that they'd have some way of identifying the ship. They'd find out that it didn't come from the one Lillandra's parents were lost in." The group deflated at the truth of that surmise.

Then Lillandra's thoughtful voice spoke up. "Perhaps ... a true crash then?" The humans looked at her for an explanation. "The composition of our ships has not changed in decades, just the design. If we were to crash the scoutship in such a way that the ship itself became lost, the residual traces would confirm a Shi'ar ship - but nothing else. No other clue as to its identity."

Jeryn nodded; the proposal sounded workable. "We'd have to arrange it in a remote area that would give a rational explanation for a ship's disappearance..."

An idea came to the Professor. "The Marianis Trench! We could crash the ship by remote in the Mariana Islands."

Jean continued excitedly. "The ship would fall into the sea. The Trench is so deep that any wreckage would be pulverized by the water pressure. By the time it reached the bottom of the trench, it'd be nothing but powder. Nothing to identify what it was!"

Cat was focused on the developing plan, and nodded her head. "An alien ship crashing like that would be a valid event for the X-Men to go investigate. They could find me around the crash site, dazed..."

Dr. Gray spoke triumphantly. "Recognize you as Shi'ar, and bring you back here! Charles would recognize your markings, call Lillandra..."

The empress continued "And I would immediately come to get you and acknowledge you as the daughter of my parents."

Charles concluded, "The Empire would have a full-blooded Heir. That would pacify the Shi'ar nobles and give Lillandra's scientists the time needed to discover how we can generate a child of our own."

The Majestrix spoke up hesitantly. "There is another aspect to this situation." They looked at her in question. She waved a reluctant hand at Jeryn's now-folded wings. "There was a Shi'ar who bore the Gods' markings once before, in our history. His name was Neramani." Everyone looked at her in open astonishment. "Our legends say that the gods themselves marked him. All the Shi'ar came to obey him - who would contest the choice of the gods? He became the first Majestor of the Shi'ar." She concluded uneasily, "He was my ancestor." Silence fell like a thick snowfall as they all absorbed the ramifications of this revelation.

Jean was quick to seize on a logical hypothesis, "If he was your ancestor and had the same markings, it's possible that Cat's ability picked it up from your DNA." She turned to Xavier, "When she's copying a human mutant, her power has a perfect genetic match to lock on to."

The Professor nodded in relief, "But since Lillandra's Shi'ar, it's not unreasonable to assume that Jeryn's ability had to lock on to her DNA in a slightly different manner."

Jean concluded, "Hence the differences in the copying." Everyone was relieved at such a plausible, rational explanation.

The Majestrix commented, "In fact, this is very much to our advantage. Given the differences, there'll be no question of her being a clone at all."

Cat began rocking back and forth on the floor, obviously disturbed. Jean laid a hand on her friend's back. "Jeryn, what is it?"

The young woman looked piercingly up at the empress and addressed her directly. "You do realize that your sister will not take the presence of another heir lightly. She may have been quietly biding her time - even encouraging you, if she's convinced that you and the professor are incapable of having children. But I guarantee that the she won't respond well to the presence of an alternate Heir - even if I'm not declared as such. What a balancing act! Declare me Heir, and trigger Deathbird. A pregnancy will trigger her too. And if she has any number of your nobles on her side..."

Lillandra nodded grimly in acknowledgment. "You will be a target. Not to mention the fact that you will also be descended upon by everyone with a son eligible to wed an Imperial Princess. The nobles will observe you closely to determine if you can be bought or manipulated."

Jeryn digested that and countered, "And when they discover that I am completely loyal to the Majestrix?"

Charles' wife sighed, "The true nobles will rejoice - and presume that **their** eligible sons would be more acceptable as imperial consorts. The false..."

Jeryn echoed Lillandra's sigh. "The false ones. If they ever discovered my true origins..." She let that train of thought die as out of her control, and addressed the other situation instead. "I'll have to play the suitors off of each other, delay for as long as I can. At least they won't dare risk pissing me off too badly."

Wolverine chuckled, and she continued strategizing. "If you publicly declare me Heir as soon as the pregnancy is confirmed, the plots to assassinate your child should dry up and blow away. The plotters will relax and get careless, thinking that they've won. You'll be able to find and catch them. Once you've gotten them all, your child will be safe and I'll be off the hook."

The Majestrix concurred. "My agents should be able to discover them fairly quickly. Once the guilty have been dealt with, we can arrange an expedition during which you would 'disappear.'"

Dr. Gray continued, "You'd remove Lillandra's skin graft, stay in hiding for a day, and change back to yourself."

The Professor concluded, "It would be natural for the X-Men and I to come assist in the search. We would unobtrusively slip you into our party, fail to find the Princess and return to Earth. With the assassins gone our child would be able to grow up in safety. And you will take your place with the X-Men."

Lillandra cautioned, "This will not be accomplished in a fortnight, or a month. It may well be a year before all the conspirators are uncovered. We dare not end the imposture until we are certain that they have all been captured."

Jeryn straightened up and said with new confidence, "A year well spent. We can easily keep the nobles busy competing with each other for that long. My appearance alone will cause a furor that won't settle down for months. The focus will be on me – and off Lillandra – almost immediately. Six months should be plenty of time for her biology to normalize enough to conceive. With any luck, you'll be parents within a year and a half."

Cyclops returned with Beast shortly thereafter. Jean and Xavier filled them in while Henry did his work. "Amazing!" Dr McCoy exclaimed. "Will you implement the plan immediately?"

Jeryn shook her head, once more in control of herself. "Too soon. Having Lillandra come here for a vacation and return with an Heir would be too obvious." Reluctantly, everyone conceded the point.

The Shi'ar spoke softly "I wish it were not so. If I could, I would spare you the agony of changing again."

Cat smiled in gratitude. "My thanks, Your Grace, but I think it best if you return to Chandilar first. In a few weeks - given that all our tests are positive," she winced as Beast pierced her arm to draw a blood sample, "we'll stage our 'crash'. You'll need to leave a skin graft with Dr. McCoy before you go."

Jean picked up the narrative. "The X-Men will investigate - requesting Jeryn's 'assistance', and will find a dazed young Shi'ar at the crash site. They'll bring her back here, keeping her presence secret of course..."

Xavier concluded softly, "Having lost Cat when the wreckage of the ship fell into the sea." A momentary silence came over the room.

Jeryn broke it herself by summarizing, "Dr. McCoy applies the skin graft while the Professor formally informs the Majestrix of finding a shipwrecked Shi'ar. You'll obviously spend some time 'verifying my identity' before accepting me and bringing me back to Chandilar. We'll use that time to fill in everything that I need to know in order to pass as a princess of the Imperial house. The X-Men would obviously accompany us back to Chandilar to celebrate the new-but-undeclared Heir. I'm introduced to the Shi'ar, get settled in..."

Lillandra stepped forward to address her soon-to-be sister. "I wish to thank you from my soul, for your willingness to help us" she said quietly. "Your courage and cunning alone make you an outstanding counselor who I will gladly have at my side, regardless of all else. I swear I will do all that I can to protect you. I don't have enough words of gratitude to thank you for giving us this hope, this chance..." her voice died off into an emotional whisper.

Now gloved, Jeryn reached out to lay a comforting hand on the avian woman's arm, saying only "The price was right."

Beast left to perform the required tests on his samples. Jeryn spoke uncomfortably into the silence. "The transformation won't wear off until tomorrow morning. I should stay here until I've changed back - we don't want anyone outside the room seeing me this way. If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone. I've got a lot to think about."

Jean took her young friend by the arms, and kissed her cheek. "You certainly do. We'll be back later. Call if you need anything, all right?" The mimic nodded gratefully. Looking pointedly at the others, Jean took Scott's arm and left the room, followed by Xavier and Lillandra. The office doors gently closed and locked behind them.


	17. Revelation

The X-Men and their alien visitor assembled in Xavier's office two days later. Scott thumbed an intercom button and requested Cat's presence in the headmaster's suite. After a few minutes the teen entered the room, and sobered when she saw the adults arrayed before her. Though her mimicking of Lillandra had worn off the day before, the psychic heaviness in the room was plain even to a non-telepath. The professor confirmed her impression by stating, "Jeryn, before I can allow this imposture to proceed there is something all of us must know."

The Majestrix of the Shi'ar completed the query. "Your enhanced senses alone cannot account for all of the information you gave us at our last meeting. How is it that you knew so much about me without being told? How could you have discovered so much without being telepathic?"

A soft chuckle in the corner of the room broke some of the tension, and Scott commented "Unless there's a spy hole in the room somewhere that we're not aware of, that was a pretty amazing performance you gave, the last time you saw Lillandra."

Jeryn's attention was completely focused on the professor. Without breaking eye contact, he softly insisted "We must know everything. I can't let you go into such danger otherwise."

Cat closed her eyes and sighed. "It's better if I show you, then. I'll need to use the Internet, but the files I need to acquire are booby-trapped. I know for a fact that any access will cause a tracer program to execute."

Everyone in the room was startled by this. Storm walked over to the wall screen's console, and spent a while entering commands on the keyboard. After a couple of minutes she indicated with a gesture that the way was clear. Jeryn walked over to the console and started entering instructions of her own.

The great screen flared to life, and to everyone's surprise a reproduction of a newspaper clipping appeared. Logan read the title out loud to the room, "Princess Killed in Auto Crash." A picture of an overturned, wrecked car being dragged up a rocky embankment punctuated the article. Before anyone could comment, Jeryn split the display screen into two frames, and typed in an additional command sequence. Another photograph appeared next to the crash article. This one was entitled "Crown Princess Comes of Age." The picture was of Jeryn.

The young woman was unable to look at her mentors as she began speaking. "I am the eldest of three children born to the royal family of a very small European monarchy. My mother died a couple of years after my youngest brother was born. Primogeniture had always determined inheritance in my country, though in the past only males in the line were considered eligible for the crown. Because of changes in recent years, my father declared that condition of eligibility at an end. That declaration made me first in line for the throne. And it made the middle child, the older of my two brothers, very angry. He had always expected to be father's heir. He'd always walked around as if he already had the crown on his head. When he found out about father's decree, he went berserk. He raged at father, overtly and covertly, for months. After a while he simmered down, but he was never the same. He became cold and distant to all of us. Truth to tell, I think it could well have been my brother's attitude and temper that made father decide to end the gender discrimination." Jeryn sighed.

"As part of my training for the Crown, I began attending my father at legal courts to watch him in action as he administered the laws of our country. It was during these courts that I first became aware of mutants. I was curious, even fascinated. For some reason they always seemed to be on the wrong side of a lawsuit, even though in the vast majority of cases Father declared in their favor. So I paid even more attention. That's how I first discovered anti-mutant hatred. I became disgusted with such blatant prejudice, and I determined that my reign would be based on justice for all, human and mutants. I remember that my brother sneered at me about it. In fact, Devan always seemed to side with the people who were accusing the mutants of causing trouble."

Lillandra gripped Charles' hand tightly. _That one sounds like a true copy of my brother D'ken, _ she sent telepathically. Xavier sent wordless agreement. Storm was staring at the teenager with pity. Jean had sought comfort in Scott's arms. Logan looked like he wanted to kill something.

Jeryn continued. "Things went along like that for a couple of years. I was busy learning how to rule a country, father was busy teaching me, and my brother kept getting more and more distant. Then one day in the middle of a heated court session, a frightened mutant jumped the railing that separated the court from the area where my father and I were. All she wanted was to plead for our help. She wasn't dangerous – her mutancy just made her skin blue, is all."

At those words, a shocked and significant look passed between the Professor and the X-Men. Because her eyes were still closed, Jeryn didn't see it and continued with her tale. "She grabbed my hand and started pleading with me. She didn't get more than a couple of words out before she went quiet. When she touched me, I felt like my insides had started to boil. I felt her let go of my hand. I dropped to my knees, but it was over in a few seconds. I felt strange, different somehow. I raised my hands to my face – and they were blue."

Jean spoke in a strangled voice, "Your mutant power manifested for the first time."

The teenager nodded. "My father went berserk. He thought I'd been attacked. His guards wouldn't let him touch me, in case a biological agent was involved. I was hustled back to my quarters under guard. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong with me. Twenty four hours later, with no warning, I suddenly changed back to myself."

Jeryn raised her head to regard the red haired telepath. "The rumors started before we were even out of the courtroom. After I 'recovered', I resumed court duty. But now there were people who looked at me strangely whenever they thought I wasn't watching. My brother was one of them."

Logan was exerting his self-control hard to stop himself from popping his claws. It would have been a useless gesture. From the way Rogue was grinding a gloved fist into her hand, she apparently felt just as enraged as he.

The teenager closed her eyes in pain and resumed. "Months went by. Security on me was doubled – no one outside the family had a chance of getting near me. Then one day during court my father collapsed. One minute he was arguing with a barrister, the next he was dead on the floor." The girl's agony was plain to all in the room.

Jean reached out her hand and would have gone to her, but Cyclops gently held her back. She turned to argue with her lover, but Scott insisted, "Let her finish," and the telepath subsided.

It took Cat a couple of minutes to pull herself together. She drew in a shuddering breath and forced herself to continue. "After his funeral, I had to get away, if only for a few hours. I got in my car and drove away from the palace. I had to be by myself for a little while. I didn't know it at the time, but I was being watched."

Logan growled in anger, and commented "Five will get you ten I know what's coming next." The Professor shot a silencing glare at Wolverine.

Jeryn nodded in response to the remark. She raised her eyes to look at the first newspaper clipping on the computer monitor. "My brother was waiting for just such an opportunity. I was ambushed on a deserted stretch of road – a faked detour. Devan's men dragged me out of the car. He was waiting for me. Two of his bodyguards were holding a mutant boy with deer's antlers growing out of his forehead. They threw the boy at me. We fell to the ground – of course the boy touched me, just by trying to break his fall. He immediately jumped up and ran off. But my brother wasn't interested in him any longer. My blood had started boiling again as soon as I'd been touched. I felt the change happening, felt antlers growing out of my head too. I looked up and on my brother's face was the most hideous and evil grin I've ever seen on a human being."

The teen's eyes went vacant as she began to relive the horror. Ever so gently, Xavier extended his senses to pick up the images that poured forth in a flood from his student's mind – and transmitted those images to the others in the room.

"Well," her brother gloated gleefully, "looks like I was right!"

The crown princess sat up dizzily, off balance from the unaccustomed weight of a full rack of antlers, "Right? About what? What the hell is this all about, Devan?"

An unholy greed took over the young man's features. "It wasn't that blue bitch at all, like Father said it was. She had nothing to do with it. It was you, all along."

Jeryn pressed shaking hands to her face. Strange sensations flooded her entire body, making it seem almost as if she was in someone else's form rather than her own. It took an effort of will to focus on her brother's words, "Me? What do you mean, it was me? What's happening here? What have you done to me, Devan?"

The prince took a step toward his elder sibling, shaking in his anger and venom. "Oh, it's nothing I've done, big sister. You can thank Mother and Father for this. You're a mutant!"

The words echoed and spun inside what little was left of Jeryn's rational awareness. _A mutant? It can't be! But how?_ She moaned as psychic and mental shock added to the physical. She heard her brother take another step towards her, heard hatred in his voice.

"You tried to take away what's rightfully mine. You convinced Father to put you first in line for the throne. The nobles wouldn't interfere. But no one will tolerate a mutant on the throne!" His voice dropped to a near-whisper, "Especially me." The tone of his voice broke through the confusion that fogged Jeryn's brain. Instinct screamed of danger. Jeryn looked up at her own flesh and blood to find a pistol pointed at her head. Devan's mad eyes looked at her as he pulled the trigger back, "Goodbye, sister."

Instinct was all that saved her, the instinct of prey in the presence of the hunter. She hurtled forward before the hammer could fall, and caught her traitorous brother in the chest with her antlers. If she had had enough distance to get up to full speed, she might have killed him. Instead, he was knocked backwards. The pistol fired into the air. Jeryn somersaulted over her brother's prone body. Devan started screaming to his guards, "Shoot her! Kill her!" Bullets flew just as she disappeared into the brush. Several found their mark, inflicting minor injuries. The last words she heard from her brother as she fled with all the speed of a frightened deer were "Follow her to the ends of the earth if you have to, just make sure she dies!"

Xavier mercifully let his telepathic broadcast fade out, but imparted a stern admonition to the others to remain as they were. It took Jeryn a long time to come out of her memories. Her voice as she addressed them was tired and wooden. "He's been hunting me ever since." She waved at the computer monitor. "Faked a crash with my car, had me declared dead so he could be crowned. God only knows what poor soul he murdered, to pass off as my body." She raised her head to stare at the wall blankly. "I've been running for so long. Running into other mutants, learning the extent of my powers, using them to run or hide some more. Every sound I heard could have meant an imminent attack, every step I took could have been into a trap. Sometimes I'd fight, but even when I won Devan just sent more assassins after me."

Jean and Lillandra were crying soundlessly. Xavier's jaw was set so hard it was a wonder that his teeth weren't splintering. Logan's claws had extended, unnoticed, and he was gripping his chair with a force that would have shattered bones if his skeleton weren't adamantium-reinforced. Barely contained lightning flashed dangerously from Storm's eyes – both she and Rogue held fists balled in vain attempts to restrain rage.

Jeryn spoke in tones full of exhaustion. "The day I arrived here, I was still running. Devan's assassins were right behind me, closer than they'd gotten in weeks. I was sick with fever – a festered bullet wound in my leg. I hadn't met another mutant in days. I was so tired." Jean made a wordless sound in her throat, and Scott had to restrain her again to allow the teenager to finish.

Their friend dropped her head and said with profound shame, "I'd had it. Couldn't hide, they were too close behind me. I was too sick to run any longer," she admitted quietly. Tears streamed from her own eyes as she raised her head and sought Jean's. "Storm said she saw me stand up on the monitor and take a bullet. The truth is … I stood up and took it deliberately."

Cyclops had no chance of holding Jean Gray back at that declaration. He would have followed, but a sternly reinforced command from the Professor held the rest of the X-Men in place, even as Xavier realized, _That's when it happened. That's when she broke_. They could only watch impotently as a sobbing Jean wrapped the younger woman in a physical, mental and emotional support that had been denied the girl for far too long. They stayed that way wordlessly for a long time.

When the emotional storm had passed, Jeryn lifted dulled eyes to Charles. "I knew Lillandra was a sovereign the moment I saw her because I lived with one most of my life. If her empire was stable, she wouldn't be so tentative about being here. If it were unstable, she wouldn't be here at all. Trouble that a sovereign can't immediately dispense with usually involves other people of power – the great nobles, more often than not." Lillandra was nodding in confirmation and astonishment.

Cat explained her other observations. "My physical senses were unusually keen even when I was small, but having to depend on them for my life made them grow. Her scent alone told me she was an alien, and deeply distressed. At our second meeting, I smelled your scent on Lillandra and hers on you, so I knew you were mates. It was obvious that both of you wanted something from me, and that you thought I could help you. The fact that you were asking me meant that neither you nor the X-Men were able to help. Physically, they can do anything that I can – when I'm not mimicking. Which meant it was my mutant ability that you needed. But you also obviously don't need me to copy powers that any of you already have. And of course, this whole thing being secret was a given, so my target had to be someone in the room." Wearied almost beyond words, she closed her eyes and let herself rest in Jean's comforting embrace.

The room was silent for a few moments as her mentors absorbed her astonishing explanation. Cyclops was the first to break the silence. "Well. If all our students could do that, we'd all be out of our jobs." As exhausted as she was, Cat couldn't help but smile wanly while the others chuckled at his sally.

Jeryn opened her eyes as the Professor addressed her directly. "Thank you for being so open with us. I didn't intend that it cause you such pain. I can only grieve for what you've been through." Unanimous agreement echoed around the room at his words.

She admonished her friends wearily. "Don't grieve for me. If you want to mourn, save it for the greater loss." She painfully looked the Professor in the eyes and spoke to him as an equal for the first time. "Even before I found out that I was a mutant, I was bound and determined that I was going to make my country into a safe place, a haven where humans and mutants could live together in justice and peace. As sovereign Queen, I could have personally banished at will anyone who violated that peace. I would have been able to give mutants a safe Home." They all heard the special emphasis on the last word. She lost eye contact with Xavier as her head dropped in sorrow. "Somehow, I don't think that's what my brother has planned for his reign."

Charles was in absolute shock. His dream had been so close to reality, if on a smaller scale – and he had been entirely unaware of it. Cat saw the cascade of anguish – mirror of her own - crash down over his features, and concluded softly, "I would have welcomed you there."


	18. Justice

_How is it possible that I missed this? _Charles agonized to himself, _If Jeryn's powers have been active for several years, I should have seen her through Cerebro! Why didn't I see her? _The Professor reached out with his mind towards his newest student in reflex - and reeled mentally as the answer became obvious. _My God! I can't 'see' her! She isn't copying anyone right now – she's not registering as a 'mutant' when she isn't mimicking! _

Everyone was silent as Jean escorted the exhausted teen from the headmaster's office for a much-needed rest.

Logan waited until Rogue had gently closed the door before turning to the father of the X-Men and stating in a deadly tone, "We are _not_ going to let this lie."

Storm was quick to second the motion, "Professor, he's right. We can't let Devan get away with this. We know for a fact that he's responsible for at least one murder, and that he's been doing his best to murder Cat. It isn't revenge, it's _justice._"

Xavier closed his eyes and sighed. His friends were totally worked up, and with cause – as he was himself. "I sympathize entirely. I'd like nothing more than to see the man answer for his crimes, but the fact of the matter is that it is out of our hands. I will not have us degenerate into vigilantes. That would play directly into the hands of those who accuse mutants of abusing their powers. We'd wind up becoming part of the problem, not part of the solution. Because we _are_ mutants we must be seen by others to scrupulously obey the law, not to circumvent it whenever we see fit. Devan must be brought to justice according to the customs of the legal system of his country."

Cyclops all but snarled, "When do you think _that's_ likely to happen?" Everyone looked at the field team's leader as he said bitterly, "Accuse a crowned head of state of murder?" He gestured angrily, "How many are out there that are already _known_ to be murderers, and they're still in power!"

Rogue added grimly in her southern drawl, "Not to mention that those doin' the accusin' have a habit of quietly disappearin' before anyone comes to trial. All we'd be doin' is handin' Jeryn over to him on a silver platter. 'Here she is! Come an' get her!"

The Professor concurred quietly, "I agree. For the sake of Jeryn's safety, we can't expose her in such a manner. She's endured so much already that I'm concerned for her sanity as it is. I'm certain that the trauma of all of this coming out in public could easily push her over the edge of what little stability she has left."

"So where does that leave us?" Storm complained angrily. "Do we just leave Devan alone? As certain as he is to be persecuting more mutants, if not outright killing them? Let alone what he's done to his own sister?"

Wolverine added, "And what's to prevent him from sending more assassins after Cat? Hell, we haven't caught the two here that we know about yet! What about them? The second she steps outside the gates she'll be shot. What're we going to do, just whistle a happy tune while she gets killed?"

Henry was just as furious, "Professor, Jeryn hasn't done anything _wrong_ and yet she's being hunted like an animal! 'All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing,' he quoted. "Are we going to simply stand by and do nothing when one of our own is in danger?"

His students were working themselves up to a point where something was going to explode; emotion was about to steamroll reason into the ground on its path to vengeance. Charles tried again, even though it went against the protests of his own heart and morals. "We cannot take the law into our own hands, however justified we feel. Telepathic evidence, though completely accurate and valid, is not acceptable in any court of law on the planet. We have no proof outside of that evidence that would result in Devan's conviction, and bringing this out into the open would destroy Cat. We don't have any choice. We can't pursue this."

The uproar broke free for just a split second as each of the X-Men began to protest. They were stopped, surprisingly, by Lillandra. The Shi'ar cut the sound off with a gesture and spoke with the full weight and authority of the Imperial Throne in her voice. "You cannot. But I can."

Everyone was floored by the steely tone and power with which the Majestrix declared, "It is Imperial law that every legitimate ruler on a planet within the bounds of the Empire is a legally deputized authority under the jurisdiction and protection of the Throne, even if they are unaware that the Empire exists. As the rightful heir to her country's throne, Jeryn is my direct subordinate on this planet."

Lillandra turned to her consort, "The Imperium _does_ accept telepathic evidence in our courts. Having seen the events for myself directly from her mind, as Majestrix of the Empire I do find Devan directly responsible for murder, attempted fratricide, and for illegally deposing one of my lawful sub-rulers. Under Imperial Law, he is subject to life at hard manual labor for such crimes."

She turned to Charles' students grimly, "By my authority as Majestrix, I deputize all of you temporary representatives of Imperial authority in order to bring this criminal to justice. I order you to achieve this in such a manner that no suspicion be brought upon you or your fellow mutants. I will not have any of you exposed or endangered for the sake of this man. Jeryn herself would not wish it so."

Xavier was astounded. _Lillandra, what is this?_ he sent telepathically. _You've never involved yourself directly in Earth's affairs before. Why now?_

The Majestrix met his questioning expression with the steel will that had been forged in her over years' worth of bitter battles, _A great wrong has been done here, Charles. It is within my power to redress it. It is my __**responsibility**__ to redress it. If I did not act I would be remiss in my duties as Majestrix of the Imperium. I could no more do that than you could give up your efforts to promote peace between your mutants and normal humans._ There was only determination and fact behind her words.

The Professor was quiet for a few seconds while the X-Men held their collective breath, waiting for the outcome of the obvious telepathic conversation that was going on. "Well," Charles finally said, "It would seem we have a mission to plan."


	19. Tyrant

The Blackbird descended almost noiselessly into a picture-postcard valley. If it hadn't been after midnight and the valley filled with fog, the passengers might have appreciated the scenery more. It landed on the parade ground adjacent to the castle itself.

Inside the jet, Charles Xavier was ensuring that there wasn't anyone in the vicinity awake to note their arrival. He would remain with the ship to cover an escape, if need be. Jean would provide the same cover for the field team, with Storm backing her up. Cat would bring them in and out via the most expeditious routes – not to mention identify their main target. Cyclops and Wolverine would deal with any interference by Devan's bodyguards.

Jeryn stood quietly near the exit, waiting for the ramp to be lowered. One of Storm's spare uniforms had been altered to fit her. The team walked past the Professor, who had his eyes closed in concentration. Jean reached out to her young friend with a comforting hand. "Ready?" The teen nodded determinedly, and led her friends down the ramp and across the grounds into the castle.

Cyclops was pleased with the girl's performance. Though she hadn't copied any of their powers, her keen senses made her as efficient a scout as Wolverine. The two of them worked in tandem as well as though they were a long established pair. A couple of times Jeryn halted the group and made them go to ground while she and Logan scouted. Because he was the stronger and more durable of the two, she would indicate by gesture where the potential trouble spots were that needed to be checked.

The first location was a lesser courtyard. A nice spot for an ambush, but conveniently empty of people. The second was an actual guardpost – complete with murder-holes - which sat conveniently atop their intended entranceway. Wolverine scaled the picturesque ivy that covered the wall and found the guards asleep at their posts, courtesy of Dr. Gray.

He returned to the group. "Out like a light, all of 'em."

Cyclops looked back at Jean, whose eyes were half-closed in concentration, and nodded in approval. "All right. Let's get in, get the target, and get out. Jean won't be able to hold this forever. Jeryn, lead the way."

The dethroned princess stepped forward without a word and led the way at a brisk pace. She stuck to lesser-used corridors and hallways. Storm, like the others, was scanning in all directions for potential problems. She stopped, startled, before a portrait that had been half-hidden in a side niche. She reached out and touched the telepath beside her, saying quietly, "Jean, look!"

The redhead turned in the direction her friend was pointing, being careful to not interrupt the sleep-compulsion. It was a good thing, because she nearly did a doubletake when she saw what Ororo had found.

A formal portrait hung in the niche – quite an odd thing to have in a service corridor. The frame had visible damage, making it obvious that the picture had been roughly handled. Again, odd for something so plainly valuable. It was the subject of the painting that captivated the X-Men, though. A family of five filled the canvas, a woman holding an infant, a young bored-looking boy on his father's lap, and a young girl standing between the man and woman. The girl was Jeryn. What captivated Jean, and what had clearly caught Storm's attention, was the woman.

Cat's mother's hair was a rich auburn, not as vivid as Jean's, but not far from it. The woman's face was heart-shaped, not quite as narrow as the telepath's. Still, the resemblance was enough to make it obvious why the teen had been so receptive to her.

They didn't have time to linger over their find, as Cat was intent on bringing them to their destination quickly. Once the group was in the section of the castle reserved for the royal family Jeryn walked boldly and silently to the great doors that had once marked her parents' private rooms. Guards slumbered peacefully on the floor to either side.

She indicated the doors with a brief head motion. "He'll be in here. Right beyond these doors is a private office. Go straight through. At the rear of the office is a door that leads to a combination sitting room and bedroom. Turn left when you go through that door, and you'll be looking right at him."

To the group's surprise, Jeryn had tugged off her right glove while she spoke. Cyclops asked quietly, "What are you doing that for?"

The copycat indicated the telepath's half-closed eyes. "We need to take Devan quickly and quietly. I'm sure Logan would be glad to knock him out, but we need to know if he's done anything we should be concerned about. Jean's too busy keeping the locals asleep, she can't spare any concentration for reading Devan as well."

Scott looked at his lover and saw her nod in confirmation of Jeryn's assessment. "All right, do it" he commanded.

Jean willingly grasped Jeryn's bare hand for a long moment until the copying process was complete. Even with her focus split she was completely aware of the sudden psychic presence of a powerful telepath appearing before her.

The teenager shuddered as her awareness expanded and she took inventory of all the information that was being presented to her mind. She opened her eyes and nodded confirmation at the team leader, then bent to the lock on the door. Her new-minted telekinetic powers manipulated the tumblers in the mechanism flawlessly, and they all heard the click as the door obediently unlocked itself. Jeryn quietly opened the door and led them inside.

They walked through an obviously little used office to the back of the room. The princess repeated her performance with the inner door. Cautiously, she pushed it open and glanced to the left. All was as she had expected. She turned to her teammates and nodded, signing to Logan that he should go left while she went to the right. The group quietly entered the room and closed the door. Jean and Storm remained by the entrance to block any escape attempt.

Heavy curtains closed off any moonlight from outside, making the room pitch black. Thanks to their enhanced senses, neither Wolverine nor Cat needed that assistance to find the room's lone occupant. Jeryn broadcast her awareness of her brother's location to the others while everyone moved into position. As soon as they were ready, she prepared to clamp down on her brother's vocal ability and gave Logan and Storm the signal.

In one moment, Devan was having a very satisfactory dream. In the next, he was awakened by a ruthless grip on his throat, the sound of metal blades right under his chin, and blinding lights. He instinctively tried to scream, but found himself unable to produce more than a strangled hiss – courtesy of Logan's fist around his throat.

Wolverine was pleased to see the man begin to thrash violently in fear. The knowledge of what this slimeball had ordered done to his own sister had been burning inside Logan and begged for release. He increased the strength of his grip, pinning the ersatz king to the bed, and leaned close to whisper. "Go ahead, bub. Give me an excuse. Scum like you shouldn't be allowed to live."

Cyclops spoke sternly to his teammate, "Logan!"

Growling deep in his throat, Wolverine grasped the back of the prince's neck with his other hand and bodily hauled him upright. Devan found himself staring into the ruby visor of a strange man dressed in black, and he managed to gasp out, "Who are you? What do you want?"

The visored man looked to the side without a word, and the would-be fratricide heard a sickeningly familiar voice answer the question.

"Justice, brother."


	20. Reckoning

Devan's head was turned so that he could see the speaker, though he already knew who it was. His elder sister – the rightful Queen – regarded him with the disgust usually reserved for the products of the castle's sewage system. Fear coursed through his body as he watched his sibling approach, a sinister avenging angel. Before he could run, he felt an icy paralysis envelop his body. Devan saw her nod to the one holding him, and the grip on his throat relaxed. His panic-stricken mind worked furiously. "You won't get away with this. You'll be arrested before you get out of the castle. No one will believe it's you – everyone knows you're dead. They'll think you're just some insane mutant. You'll never get the throne back!"

Jeryn moved closer and shook her head in sorrow and regret. "I will never hold the throne, but I can't permit you to hold it either, brother. I'll be content to live unknown in exile, as long as I have first served my people by removing a tyrant."

Devan tried his best to squirm away from the empty hand that his sister began extending towards him, but in vain. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. He rolled his eyes to watch as the hand of justice landed gently on his forehead – and then his world went black.

The X-Men watched the temporary telepath force rapport with her unconscious brother. A scant moment later, they saw her double over as though gut-kicked. Scott and Logan were already moving towards her when she waved them off. The hand on her brother's forehead had stayed rock-steady. "I'm all right. I just never expected…." The pain and unshed tears in her voice spoke volumes about what she had encountered in Devan's mind.

Wolverine was particularly concerned. "Can we help?" he asked anxiously.

Jeryn shook her head definitively. She held contact with the prince for another ten seconds, and then let her hand fall and stood up. Tears were running freely down her face, but her voice was low and steady. "He won't wake up until I let him, you can go ahead and take him to the ship. There are some things I need to do before we leave. Can you give me fifteen minutes?"

Scott turned to Jean in question. "Can you hold your compulsion that long?" The flame-haired woman nodded unhesitatingly. Cyclops turned back to his newest teammate and commanded. "Do it."

Jeryn immediately left her brother to the two men and returned to the outer office. She activated the nearest computer and spent several minutes typing instructions on the console. Finally, she wiped the activity log and shut down the machine. Her teammates were at the outer door, impatient to be gone.

She scanned the hall to make sure the corridors were still clear, and addressed her friends quietly. "There's a room three doors down. I need five minutes inside. Alone."

Burdened by the unconscious prince, Scott gestured to the other women with his chin. "Storm, Jean, cover her." The two men watched anxiously as the three slipped across the hall. Jeryn repeated her manipulation of the door lock, and quietly entered the room.

Ororo and Jean were startled to see their friend proceed immediately to the room's sleeping occupant – a young boy of about nine or ten. The child had fallen asleep grasping an object. His hand had relaxed in sleep, and they could see moonlight glittering off of it. Storm shifted her position to get past the glare, and saw a night-violet amethyst the size of a robin's egg surrounded by fiery opals nestled in the boy's palm. She could tell from Jeryn's muted gasp that her friend recognized the pendant.

Jean saw Jeryn kneel on the floor beside the boy and bend to touch him. The princess touched her own forehead to the boy's. Chestnut hair met and merged with equally chestnut hair. _Her younger brother! _Jean realized. For a few minutes the only sound was quiet breathing. Both Jean and Storm saw fresh tears, silvered by the moonlight, fall down their friend's face. All too soon the princess raised her head. She looked at the boy one last time, and caressed his face. Then she lovingly closed his hand around the pendant he held, kissed the child's fist, laid it down on the bed, and walked away.

Their return to the Blackbird was uneventful, despite the presence of their unconscious passenger. They got the prince securely stowed, and Scott and Ororo lifted off to rendezvous with Lillandra's ship in low orbit.

Xavier and Jean dropped their sleep-compulsion as soon as the ship reached commercial flight altitude. Charles surveyed the cabin to ensure himself of everyone's safety. His attention was caught by his newest student. It was obvious that she had mimicked Jean – her psychic presence was enormous. It was also obvious that she wanted to be left alone. Her mental shields were hard enough to rival the adamantium in Logan's skeleton. The professor looked at Dr. Gray inquiringly, indicating the princess with his chin.

Jean returned the glance unhappily, and sent in a private thought-burst, _Later._

They met the majestrix' ship as planned and transferred their unconscious passenger to the brig. The group congregated around the cell. Lillandra engaged the laser bars herself. She looked at the youngest mutant inquiringly. "Well?" Jeryn nodded and bowed her head in concentration.

Within a few seconds, the young man's eyes fluttered and opened. He took in his altered surroundings, and sat up quickly. He panicked when he saw himself behind bars, and flung himself at them. Fire seared his hands when he made contact with the bars. He yelled in pain and pulled them back quickly. Panic turned quickly to anger. "Where am I? What have you done? Let me out of here now! I'll have all of you shot for this!"

Jeryn stepped forward to address her brother. "Where you are is the jail cell in an alien spaceship. What I've done is to remove a threat to my people. What you are going to do is to spend the rest of your natural life on a penal world surrounded by aliens, at hard manual labor for your crimes."

Devan stared at his elder sister incredulously, and then laughed. "You've cracked! You're mad!"

Xavier rolled his wheelchair slightly forward to catch the prince's attention, and spoke serenely. "On the contrary, she's quite sane. Prince Devan, allow me to introduce Empress Lillandra of the Shi'ar Galactic Empire – to which Earth belongs, by the way."

Jeryn's brother stared unbelievingly at the tall avian woman who stepped to Xavier's side. The majestrix regarded the prisoner with great disgust. "As Majestrix of the Empire, I find you guilty of attempted fratricide and high treason against one of my lawful rulers, and I do sentence you to life at manual labor in the mines of Cetus Seven."

Wolverine added, "Any one of us would gladly cut your throat for what you've done to your sister, but that'd be too easy a way out for a scumbag like you." He approached the inmate and growled, "You be sure to think about that, when you're busting your butt digging rocks out of the ground, mate. When your hands are raw and bleeding and aliens are whipping your sorry ass, you remember what you did to her."

Xavier lifted a hand and said "Logan, enough." Wolverine pulled back with a snarl.

Lillandra addressed Cat, "It's customary among the Shi'ar to allow the injured party to speak to the condemned, before sentence is carried out. Is there anything you would like to say to him before we leave?"

Jeryn stepped forward and regarded her brother, who was wearing a look of horror as he realized that this was really happening. The X-Men saw their friend's incredible sorrow, and there wasn't a single one among them who wouldn't have offered her a shoulder to cry on at that moment. Tears ran unheeded down the princess' face as she looked for the last time at one who should have been her closest companion and supporter. Finally, she dropped her eyes and shook her head. "We have nothing left to say to each other. I would only ask the court to note two additional crimes on his record, which I have verified by mind-link with the condemned."

Xavier turned to his student in question. "What other crimes could matter to a man who has already been sentenced?"

Jeryn lifted her head to stare directly at her mentor and replied, "Patricide. And regicide." Then she turned on her heel and walked away.


	21. Resolution

The journey back to the school was made in near silence. Jeryn had gone straight to the Blackbird from the brig, and taken the rearmost flight chair. Her diamond-hard psychic shields and averted head told everyone quite plainly that she wanted to be left alone. Cyclops and Storm murmured quietly to each other in the cockpit, coordinating launch and flight path with the Shi'ar flagship. Once underway, their journey took less than an hour.

The jet landed in pitch-blackness, since it was still the middle of the night on the eastern U.S. seaboard. The X-Men filed quietly off of the plane. Except for Jean. She went to her anguished friend and laid a sorrowful hand on the girl's shoulder before debarking. _Whenever you're ready, _she sent. _Take your time._

The group assembled at the far end of the hanger, just inside the hallway that led to the complex underneath the mansion. They had only stood there a couple of minutes when they saw their young comrade exit the plane. Instead of following the X-Men, she immediately walked to an emergency exit that led to a deserted stretch of lakeshore and disappeared from view. Xavier turned to Wolverine and commanded, "Follow her."

Jeryn knew he was there, of course. She ignored him, knowing that he was only there to guard her back. Ten minutes' swift walk brought her to a concealed door that opened to reveal a deserted stretch of lakeshore. It was a beautiful summer night. Stars shone magnificently in the sky, reflecting clearly off of the lake's surface. The only sounds to be heard were those of a natural wilderness. She walked more slowly towards the water, making no note of Logan's emergence from the escape tunnel.

If he hadn't been so concerned about his teammate, the night would have enabled Wolverine to touch what little peace there was in his own soul. He climbed a great oak that offered a clear vantage point, and watched his colleague stride directly towards the water. She stopped on a short peninsula just meters from the water's edge, and stood there for a while with her eyes closed and head thrown back. Logan saw Jeryn drop to her knees; her sobbing was clearly and painfully audible to him.

Tears came to his own eyes when she dropped to all fours and howled out her agony. He needed no translator to decode the anguish in her voice. He had spent enough hours screaming his own to the world to recognize pain when he heard it. Wolverine's heart beat faster and he broke out in a sweat. It was very nearly possible for him to tell exactly what she was crying about, the tones and inflections of her voice touched the strings in his own soul so strongly.

Incredible relief came after an hour or so, when he felt a familiar touch on his mind and knew that Jean was checking on them. He felt her surprise at his own emotional state. _How is she doing? _

Logan was no telepath, but he could let Jean see through his eyes and mind. He felt the doctor's concern at the fact that the girl's pain continued unabated. Through his tears, Wolverine filled himself with the conviction that their friend would be all right so that Jean would pick it up from him.

_She's needed this for a long time, _the telepath conceded and projected into his mind. _Call us if things start getting out of hand. _

He filled his mind with agreement and felt Jean's presence withdraw from him. He did his best to settle down in the tree, with his companion's cries shrilling across his nerves like a bone saw. It was a long night for both of them.

The heat of the noon sun baking her black uniform was what finally woke Jeryn from an exhausted sleep. She rolled over and squeezed her eyes shut against the glare. The cool water lapped at the shore invitingly. Cat sat up and looked out over the lake, realizing that she had cried herself into unconsciousness. She closed her eyes and exhaled; the pain was still there, but it was bearable now.

The sun's heat was becoming brutal, and the water was too tempting. Jeryn stood and unzipped her uniform, letting it pool at her feet. Wolverine, still watching from his tree, was startled; the close-fitting military tank and shorts she wore beneath the armor hugged a woman's sensuous curves, not a half-grown child. He whistled to himself in appreciation, realizing only then that her preference for concealing clothing while at the school had been deliberate. No doubt a holdover from being hunted for so long – revealing such a figure would not only court trouble, but invite it in to stay for tea.

As tempting as the water was, Jeryn had something else to tend to first. She pulled a knife out of a leg sheath in her armor. Logan saw her walk barefoot across the shore to a stand of cattails and unceremoniously haul the largest one out. He grinned as she lopped off the top of the plant, scraped a foot-long section of the root clean, and began munching her breakfast. She wiped the knife clean on the leg of her shorts, and thrust it into a sheath-slit behind her back.

_Good girl._ Wolverine thought approvingly to himself. He relaxed, much relieved. Jeryn was obviously in command of herself again, and past the night's crisis. He allowed himself to settle more comfortably in his tree.

Mimic finished her breakfast and spent the afternoon swimming, floating in the lake, and napping in the sunshine while she thought. What she had told Xavier and the others was true; there was no hope of a known mutant claiming a monarchy in the current political climate. That dream had died as soon as she'd had to accept what she was. She dove cleanly into the clear lake water and spent some time exploring the sandy bottom as if she expected to find answers there.

She surfaced and rolled over in the water to float on her back for a while. There was a new peace in her soul that came from having served her people, by rescuing them from the danger that her brother presented. A sharp ache welled up as she thought of Devan, but she firmly closed that door before guilt could take hold. _Father once told me __that a king often had to make decisions that hurt him personally, because the actions of others left him with no alternate choices_. She knew that intimately now. He'd also told her that his only rightful responsibility in those cases was to see that as few others were hurt as possible.

Jeryn hauled herself out of the water and lay down on the grass next to her uniform. It was time to leave the past behind, and think of her future. _What do I do now? What are my options?_ Well, there were only two decent ones, really. She could remain with the X-Men as the Professor had been urging her to do. She could stay, learn, and teach. And eventually, she could join the X-Men in their fight for human-mutant peace. _An honorable choice. And a good life, despite the danger. There are a lot of worse ways to live than being surrounded by friends you love and respect._ It was tempting. She turned over onto her belly and let the sun and air dry her back.

In her heart, she knew that she couldn't do it. She felt the inner call pulling her to the other path too strongly. Born to the blood, the vacancy at Lillandra's side called to her to serve as she had intended to serve. As she had been born to serve. To turn away from it would be to turn away from who she was. The choice, she realized, had already been made. It had simply been waiting for her to listen to it. _Besides, it's only a temporary assignment. Six months, a year at most, then I'll be able to come back. To come home._

Dry now, she stepped into her uniform and zipped it up. Late afternoon sunlight gilded her hair as she walked towards a certain tree on the edge of the forest. She spoke up into the branches with feigned asperity, "You might as well come down, before you start growing a prehensile tail."

Wolverine landed on the ground before her with a grin on his face. The woman before him stood at ease, completely at home in the uniform that she wore - with all that it implied. Logan felt his chest swell with pride, and spoke quietly. "Ready to go?" he inquired.

Cat looked at him with a face that was soft with a new-found inner peace. "Yeah. Let's go home."

They emerged onto the grounds to the west of the school just as the sun went behind the treetops. The students at play on the lawns were stunned at the sight of their classmate in a full X-Man battle uniform. They watched in amazement, all play temporarily halted, as she walked to the veranda with new poise. There was no trace of childhood left in her carriage.

The Professor was waiting for them. They mounted the steps to the wide veranda. Logan was the first to meet Xavier's gaze, and nodded with satisfaction at the look of anxious inquiry. A quickly veiled relief came over Charles' face as Wolverine turned to his companion. "Well, I think I'll go get cleaned up and get some dinner." He reached out and touched Jeryn's arm. "You take care of yourself, okay?"

The young woman nodded as he made to leave, and said, "Logan – thank you."

Her friend smiled back in return. "No problem. See you around."

Jeryn watched as Wolverine disappeared inside the mansion. She smiled to herself – she still had Jean's abilities, and could sense most of the X-Men watching her from various vantage points around the main building. She turned to face the one at her side.

Charles felt an unspeakable relief as he took in the unfeigned sense of peace permeating his newest student. Her psychic shields were firm, but they no longer had that impenetrable diamond-hardness. Even as he tested them out of sheer reflex, he felt them go transparent to his probe. A wordless welcome invited his examination.

Gently, carefully, Xavier extended his telepathic presence into Jeryn's. Her mind was completely open to his cautious touch, and he slid into her consciousness like a blade into water. She obligingly gave him her experiences of the past day, and invited him to look deeper into her thoughts if he felt he needed to.

She felt his awareness touch on those memories and absorb them, but what he needed to know most would not be found in dry recall. In response to his quiet plea, Jeryn dropped the shields that separated her inmost self from her memories and showed him the core of her being. To Charles' inestimable relief, he found her heart whole once more, and growing strong again. The break had been healed. If it took some time to regain its former strength, well, that was only to be expected. He rather thought that it wouldn't take overly long. His sense of relief and release was very clear to his student. They spent a few moments in wordless communion – for that space of time, equal partners in their quest for peace. Then they gently disengaged from the intimacy of mindlink.

Jeryn's face shone with the love and regard she felt for her mentor. The once and future princess laid a hand on Charles' shoulder for a moment in wordless affirmation of their shared dream. He covered the hand with his own in acknowledgment. Then without speaking a word, she left to seek a meal.


	22. Well done

A long hot shower and fresh clothing did much to revive her. Jeryn briefly considered joining her classmates in the dining hall, but decided against it. Jean's borrowed telepathic power was still at full strength, and she was still raw enough from her losses to want to avoid large gatherings of people. On top of that, having appeared to her classmates in uniform virtually guaranteed that she was the main topic of the adolescent conversations filling the dining hall tonight. She really didn't feel up to the effort of continuously reinforcing her shields and fending off the curious. In fact, if she wanted to avoid her classmates, Cat decided that she'd best not be in her room when the dining hall closed. She snatched an apple from the fruit bowl on the coffee table and slipped out.

An evening breeze off of the lake cooled the abandoned western portico of the mansion and made a refreshing counterpoint to the sun-warmed stone and brick behind Jeryn as she leaned idly against the waist-high wall surrounding the patio. She spent some time simply enjoying the feel of the light wind cooling her face and the natural evening sounds that started up in the nearby woods.

She soon heard the cheerful and noisy chatter of the students, released from the evening meal and proceeding to the dormitories. Lights came on throughout the mansion. She'd chosen new jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt when she'd dressed; the colors made her fade into near-invisibility against the dark grounds. She wasn't to go unnoticed, however.

A gently broadcast telepathic call and query filled the grounds, and Jeryn smiled. She sent an affirmation and location to the originator; very shortly, Scott Summers and Jean Gray joined her on the darkened patio. Jean was carrying a plate that held a well-filled sandwich which she offered to her friend. "I figured you weren't up to eating in the hall tonight, so I brought you something."

Cat grinned and wrapped a great telepathic hug of gratitude around her teacher as she took the sandwich. "Thanks! My stomach wasn't very happy with just an apple, but I wasn't up to fending off the curious at dinner." She eagerly tucked into the juicy roast beef while her companions found themselves spots along the patio wall. When every last crumb had been devoured she once again leaned comfortably against the cooling stone.

The three of them enjoyed the quiet summer night together for a while. It made a rare and welcome counterpoint to their primary duties. Then Jean asked her student softly, "How are you doing?" Jeryn nodded to herself in the darkness; she knew that these two hadn't come looking for her just to bring her food. "Better. It still hurts, but I can live with it."

Silence reigned for a little while. Scott cleared his voice uncomfortably, and asked briefly, "Your father?"

The pain in Jeryn's voice was obvious. "Poisoned. Father had a heart condition that he had to take medication for on a regular basis. Beneficial in the correct dosage, but deadly if not used properly. Devan got hold of it and saw that Father got a massive overdose. I never would have believed he could have done such a thing if I hadn't seen it in his mind for myself."

Jean reached over to hold her friend until the tears passed; she'd had ample experience in the shock of accidentally discovered telepathic information herself.

When Jeryn had herself in hand again Cyclops told her quietly, "We were all impressed by the way you handled yourself. You kept it together, worked with the team. Good job. I've told the Professor so."

Cat nodded her head and softly acknowledged the praise, "Thank you."

Jean turned to look out over the darkened lawns. "If I could ask…the little boy? Your younger brother?"

Both the X-Men heard the fond smile in Jeryn's reply. "Arin, yes. I was twelve years old when Mother died. Arin was three. We each had governesses, but I was bound and determined that my little brother wasn't going to be raised by a stranger." She laughed out loud to the relief of her friends, delighted with the memory. "I basically took over the nursery, was a holy terror to the staff. Even when he turned six and started taking lessons, I always found the time to barge in to see how he was doing, tell him a story at naptime, whatever."

Jean and Scott chuckled along with their friend. "Sounds like he was one lucky little boy, having you for a big sister," Scott observed.

Jean concurred. "No doubt!"

Cat ducked her head in momentary embarrassment. "He'll make a good king when he's older. At least he won't be a mutant-hater like his elder brother. I made sure of that much. I gave him everything I thought he'd need to know, disguised by a dream. He won't be able to remember most of it until later, but it'll be there when he needs it."

Cyclops commented softly, "Then I would say that your country's Princess has honorably fulfilled her duty to her people." The aforementioned princess was momentarily taken aback by the statement.

Jean broke the silence by asking hesitantly, "Jeryn? The pendant we saw in Arin's hand. You recognized it?"

The younger woman shook off her astonishment. Both her seniors heard the unmistakable love in her voice as she replied simply, "It's mine. I wore it all the time. Father gave it to me as a coming-of-age gift. I'd had to take it off so I could wear full formals for Father's funeral, you see. I was in such a hurry to get away from the castle afterwards that I forgot to put it back on. The little sneak got into my quarters and pinched it when the staff ran off to see my car being towed in, before Devan had a chance to seal my rooms. When I touched his mind, I found out that he's been sleeping with it ever since."

Tears clouded Jean's voice as she stated, "Well, I think that if he turns out to be half the person as the sister that he hero-worships, then your country is in very good hands indeed."

Touched, Jeryn could only reply, "Thank you."

Further conversation was interrupted by a small figure in white who came hurtling up to the trio. "Miss Jean! Miss Jean! Miss Ororo said you were out here, and – oh!" A little girl, one of the school's youngest students, had barreled headlong into Jeryn, who grabbed the child reflexively. The princess chuckled as she set the little one back on her own feet. The youngster became even more excited upon seeing who she had run into. "Miss Jeryn! I was looking for you! Will you come and sing to us tonight?"

Jean demurred, "I don't think Miss Jeryn feels much like singing tonight, Katie."

Cat knelt down and stroked the crestfallen child's hair even as she replied to the telepath. "On the other hand, it might be just what the doctor ordered." Jeryn regarded the child with warm, thoughtful eyes and asked "Maybe not singing, but would a story do?" Katie wiggled with excitement and nodded her head emphatically, making the teen chuckle again. "Off you go then. Tell everyone to finish up their homework, and I'll be along in a few minutes."

The three of them laughed delightedly as the child zoomed away as quickly as she had arrived. Jean had moved to wrap an arm around Scott's waist while Jeryn had been talking with Katie and said warmly, "You're very good with children."

Cat stood up, still watching the child's path, and replied, "Children are God's healing gift to the soul. As long as this world still holds children that are free of fear, anger, and all the stupidities that we adults practice, there's still hope for peace here."

Jean felt a spark of mischievousness arise inside her. "Well, I'll keep you in mind when I need a babysitter for my own kids someday" she teased. A rich laugh from Jeryn rewarded her sally.

Scott doubled it by deliberately playing into the joke. "_Your_ kids? Don't I have any say in choosing a sitter? How many kids are we talking about? And what date did you have in mind?"

Both women were in stitches at his semi-feigned eagerness. Jean's face colored in embarrassment (not to mention the discomfort caused by a subject that hit far too close to home,) and she gave her lover a half-hearted swat. Jeryn wiped her face free of the laugh tears, still chuckling, and made her way to the dormitories, bidding her very relieved friends good night.


	23. Go For Launch

The next day was the last of the Majestrix' visit; she would be leaving late that night. Charles called a meeting of the full team in midafternoon. The Professor wanted to make a final attempt to dissuade Cat from her decision, as he was still concerned about his student's stability, not to mention the inherent dangers involved in impersonating an Imperial Shi'ar.

Jeryn was insistent on going ahead with the plan, "Professor, as odd as it may sound, this is very familiar ground to me. It's the same kind of environment that I was born and raised to be part of. I daresay that I have a number of royal mannerisms I'm not even aware of anymore that are obvious to Lillandra. As long as mutants are being hunted as I was hunted, I can't rest. The best way – the right way – to stop it is to pursue human-mutant peace. If I can get us the time that we need to achieve that simply by posing as Lillandra's sister for a year or even two, wouldn't it be worth it? Maybe, in a strange way, it was necessary for me to lose the country I had intended to serve so that I could be free to answer the call to a greater service."

Xavier wasn't convinced, "Jeryn, I admire your conviction and determination, but the fact of the matter is that you remain badly injured on a psychic level. You went from being the beloved and acknowledged heir to a kingdom to being a hunted animal, reviled by most of humanity for being a mutant. You're mentally very fragile – don't forget that you **chose** to step in front of that assassin's bullet."

The teen nodded admission of the charge. "You're right, of course. But think of this; being Lillandra's younger sister would in a way put me back into the mental framework where I was most stable. It would give me back a lot of my strength while the rest of me heals. And in doing so, I would be helping to give you the time you need to ensure that no more mutants have to go through what I did." Jeryn looked down at her folded hands and concluded quietly, "In a way that would be the most healing thing I could possibly do for myself."

The Majestrix of the Shi'ar Galactic Empire was greatly moved by the young mutant's honesty and conviction. Lillandra laid an approving hand on the girl's shoulder, "And she will not be alone. My own skills are not inconsiderable, and I will gladly exercise them to the utmost to ensure her complete recovery by the time she returns to you. It would be only fair, to compensate her for the favor she would be doing us."

Cyclops spoke up thoughtfully. "Professor, if Lillandra can stabilize Jeryn for us I think we have to seriously consider it." The father of the X-Men looked inquiringly at the field commander, who elaborated. "None of the other students we've considered as potential candidates for the team are anywhere near as versatile or powerful as Jeryn. They're also nowhere near as ready. She already has a lot of real-world experience that the others are lacking – she won't make the mistakes a regular 'greenie' would. To be honest, I've been considering her for limited duty for the past few weeks. You know how short-handed we are. When I consider the incidents we've already had, and I think 'How different would things have turned out if we'd had another Storm, another Jean, another Rogue to help us...'."

Xavier nodded, conceding the point, and Scott continued. "If Jeryn was stable, you know she would have been put on the active team two months ago, even if only on limited duty status. Let Lillandra take her and heal her. We get more time without a galactic civil war hanging over our heads. Jeryn gets the time and attention that she needs to recover fully. Your wife gets the relief from pressure that she needs so that the two of you can have the child that you want, and the heir that the Empire needs to have. And in six months to a year, the X-Men get a stable, fully trained and functioning mimic to fight alongside us. Honestly, it seems to me that the risk is worth it given everything that we all stand to gain."

Lillandra affirmed the teen's earlier point, "Charles, she knows so much about living as a royal that she'll pass almost without question - even as a Shi'ar. She's right, much of the success of the imposture rests on that 'attitude' - and the combination of that attitude and her ability is something that none of your other students have."

The Professor was silent for a few moments, then looked to the person he thought would be his strongest ally against the plan, "Jean?"

The redheaded telepath was torn in a way she'd never experienced before. The long months of working to heal the young copycat's damaged psyche had built a bond between the two that both Charles and Jean knew to be fully as strong as any mother-daughter relationship. She knew better than anyone how damaged the girl had been, how much healing had been done, and how much more was left to do. She wanted to hold Jeryn in her arms and protect her, prevent her from carrying out this dangerous scheme – and at the same time realized that she had no right to do so. _Is this what it feels like to send your child off to war?_ she wondered while exercising her utmost effort to keep her emotions from showing to the others.

Jean turned her eyes to Cat's and saw in them sympathy, love, and a level of trust that she knew the girl hadn't given to anyone since her father's death. _Not trusting me to keep her safe, _she knew._ Everyone in this room – Jeryn especially – knows there isn't any such thing as 'safe' for people like us. There isn't any 'safe' place either. Even if we can convince her to abandon this plan, which I highly doubt, how much 'safer' is it here, with Magneto, other mutants bent on revenge, government unrest, and a potential galactic civil war hanging over us? Safety is an illusion, and she knows it. So what is she trusting me to do?_

The room was silent as the two looked at each other. Jeryn's shields were transparent to Jean, but the telepath declined the implicit offer to look into the girl's thoughts. It was her own mind she needed to deal with, not Cat's. Dr. Gray saw only patience and acceptance in the teen's demeanor, and her own thoughts finally crystallized, _She's trusting me to do the right thing. She knows firsthand how painful it is, but she's trusting me to allow her do what she can. What she has to do. _

Jean closed her eyes in pain and forced herself to live up to that precious trust. _Her ability will make her a genetically perfect Shi'ar for as long as the copying lasts. Lillandra's right, she has all the royal mannerisms that would be expected of an Imperial Princess, even one who grew up in exile. The exile itself will cover a lot of lapses, at least for a short time, and just the shock of her showing up will keep the Shi'ar stunned and diverted for months. That alone could give Lillandra the respite she needs._

Making the greatest effort outside of battle that she'd ever had to make in her life, Jean opened her eyes and addressed her anxious colleagues, "I think she can do it." Before anyone could say a word in response she pointed at the girl, "_with the proviso_ that the skin graft successfully negates the time limit on your copying," then pointed at the father of the X-Men, "_and_ that you're prepared to take an extended vacation on Chandilar in four or five months." She dropped her hand into her lap. "This whole thing is damned dangerous, and I want Jeryn on her way back to Earth the moment we have confirmation that Lillandra's pregnant. "

To everyone's surprise Wolverine chimed in, addressing the copycat, "We need you here, too." When his fellow mutants looked at him in startlement he waved one hand around the room vaguely, "You know, I mean we, all of us."

Rogue spoke quietly then, her southern accent betraying the strong emotions behind the words, "Not meanin' to step on your toes Professor, but it seems to me that if she's bound an' determined to go, then that's an end to it."

Storm's agreement was equally soft, "Indeed. If she trusts her ability so much that she is willing to put her life up as surety, how can we not trust her enough to let her do so?"

Hank McCoy contirbuted unhappily, "Playing 'devil's advocate,' which it grieves me to do in this case, I must say that even if the imposture is eventually discovered, the length of time for which it is successful may be enough of itself to achieve our objective. Providing of course that it is not traced back to us."

Jeryn nodded acknowledgment of Beast's summary and countered quietly, "I'm sure that arrangements can be made to cover that eventuality." She looked to Lillandra, who agreed.

Everyone turned to the father of the X-Men. Unlike Jean, Charles accepted Cat's invitation and examined her thoughts thoroughly. His student was convinced of her ability to pull off the imposture, and was as aware of the consequences of failure as anyone could be at this point. He, better than anyone but Lillandra, was aware of exactly how likely instability in the Empire was to affect Earth. _Largely because of me,_ he thought with no small amount of pain. He was once again faced with the one choice he hated making more than any other – and he made it. He only hoped that he wouldn't regret it. He nodded at Cat and said reluctantly, "You have a 'go.'"


	24. Loose Ends

Charles was in his office a few days later, preparing for his next classical literature lesson when Ororo walked in with a sheaf of papers and a puzzled expression on her face. "Professor, have you made any large financial transactions this past week?"

Xavier was startled. "No, why?"

The elegant woman offered him the printouts. "Look at these. I was just working on the household expenses, and the numbers are way off. I thought you might have made a transfer and the bank perhaps used the wrong account number."

The Professor inspected the sheets and was shocked. "That can't be correct. There must have been a mistake somewhere. Only the investment accounts carry balances that large."

Storm agreed. "That's what I thought, so I called the bank. They confirmed the balance and said a large wire transfer had been made into the account five days ago. They couldn't give me the originating account number; it was a blind transfer. I thought it might have been you, but I couldn't imagine why you'd be putting so much money into the household account."

Xavier shook his head, as puzzled as she was. "No, it wasn't me. Where in the world could it have come from?" He looked up at his assistant. "The bank said that the transfer was made five days ago?" Storm nodded in confirmation. The Professor thought out loud. "Five days…." After a few moments, Ororo saw a startled look appear on her mentor's face. He repeated to himself "No, it couldn't be!"

The white-haired mutant was curious. "Couldn't be what, Professor?"

Xavier rolled his wheelchair over to his desk and thumbed an intercom button. "Jeryn, please report to the headmaster's office immediately. Jeryn, to the headmaster's office."

It was Storm's turn to be startled. "Cat? Why Cat?" The Professor held up a hand, and she desisted.

It didn't take long before a knock sounded on the door. "Come," Charles called.

Jeryn opened the door and poked her head into the room. "Professor, you wanted to see me?"

He nodded and waved a hand in a gesture for her to enter. She closed the door behind her as Xavier held up the sheaf of paper. "Storm was going over the household accounts this morning when she found a discrepancy. Quite a large discrepancy, in fact. Do you know anything about it?"

The teen nodded in satisfaction. "It arrived safely, then. Good. Took a bit longer than I expected, but I suppose a triple-blind transaction takes time."

Storm was shocked. "A _**triple**_-blind transaction? You did this? When? How in the world… ?"

Xavier interrupted the woman quietly. "You did it during the mission to retrieve your brother, didn't you?"

Jeryn nodded confirmation. "Devan wasn't one to actually get involved in the responsibilities of running a country. When I read his mind to find out if he'd set any more traps for me, I discovered that he'd never changed any of the master passwords in the computer system. I also found out that he'd rather blatantly and inexpertly transferred a considerable amount of money into his private accounts. While I was in the computer system I created some very obvious "footprints" that'll lead the auditors to most of the stolen funds. There was one rather sizable account that I decided to hide, though. I set up a series of self-destructing transactions to transfer the money here. Jean and Storm have taken me shopping with them often enough that I knew what bank the household account was with, and what the routing number to it was. Each time the money got transferred to a new temporary account, the computer program created a number of dummy transfers, obliterated all traces of the real transfers, and created a host of invalid "ghost" accounts as decoys. No auditor in the world is going to be able to unravel that in a million years." She looked at the father of the X-Men mischievously. "Call it my tuition payment."

Storm and Xavier were shocked. "Jeryn," Charles indicated the sheaf of paper weakly, "This amount of money could purchase a half dozen Blackbirds, almost finance another school…."

The former princess sobered. "And it could never in a hundred years repay the decency and kindness you all showed by taking in a hunted stranger without question and giving her hope and a home." She gestured at the printouts with her chin. "If that gets used to provide other mutants with the same help that you've given me, it'll be doing a lot more good than it would have just fattening a bunch of bureaucrats."

The Professor was still stunned. "Jeryn, we can't accept this. This money should be yours…."

Cat drew herself gently upright and smiled, dropping her usual effacing mannerisms. For a few moments Xavier and Ororo saw their young friend assume the dignity and presence of a princess-born. "Charles," she addressed him as an equal. "I can't use it. By the time I could create an infrastructure such as yours, the money would be gone. And what purpose would be served by duplicating something that already exists? We mutants need to speak with the single voice of peace, not from several satrapies with their own agendas. If I cannot provide mutants with a safe Home, then let me at least contribute my share to those that have the best hope of doing so. For all our sakes."

Xavier found himself needing to swallow a lump in his throat at the quiet nobility of the young woman before him, and could only nod in acquiescence. Jeryn made him a profound and respectful bow, acknowledging and honoring him and his devotion to their mutual cause. Then she left the room without a sound.

Storm exhaled hugely as the door softly closed. "That," she turned to her mentor, "is one hell of a lady."

The Professor could only agree, "That she is."

That Saturday night, the X-Men drove to the nearby town of Salem Center. Recreation was the last thing on their minds. They parked on the outskirts of town, their black battle armor making them nearly invisible.

"All right," Cyclops commanded the group, "Jean, you see if you can pick up anything telepathically."

The redhead nodded even as she felt a familiar touch on her mind and informed him "The Professor will be looking too."

Scott nodded in acknowledgement. "Good. Logan, stay sharp. If you pick up the scent of our shooters, sing out. We want to take them quickly and quietly. And alive. I don't want to give them any chance of escaping."

Wolverine replied grimly "I guarantee they won't."

The X-Men's field commander made assignments. "Rogue, cover Logan. I'll cover Jean. Storm, you go high. Tell us if you see anything suspicious. Everybody keep in touch." The group split up, Rogue and Wolverine taking the west side of town and Scott and Jean the east.

After a half-hour of walking, the telepath suddenly stopped in her tracks. "Wait a minute…."

Cyclops was instantly on the alert. "Got something?"

The doctor cautioned him, "Hold on. I want to make sure I'm not picking up on someone watching a slasher flick…." She turned her head slightly as if trying to pick up a distant sound. Then her eyes popped open. "Got it! Motel on the north edge of town. Two of them, armed. A sniper and a tracker."

Scott queried anxiously, "Any lookouts?"

He waited while Jean checked again, and was relieved when she shook her head. "They know she's in the mansion. They've been waiting for her to come out. They think they have her bottled up."

Her lover spoke grimly, "Then let's not make them wait any longer." He activated his comm badge and spoke into it. "Storm, Rogue, Logan, we've got them. Two men. Mark our position. We'll surround the building. Let's take them quietly, we don't want a scene."

It only took a couple of minutes for the team to get into position. The telepath used the time to insinuate a subtle sleep-compulsion towards their targets. It wouldn't knock the hunters out, but with any luck it would slow down their responses for the first few critical seconds.

The fight was over in less than a minute. Rogue literally flew through the door, Cyclops right behind her. Wolverine crashed through the bay window with his claws extended, roaring like a maniac. Heavy fog blanketed the area around the motel for several blocks in all directions as Storm gave them visual cover.

Rogue simply continued through the door and flew into the nearest assassin with an outstretched fist, laying the man out cold in a heartbeat. The other would-be killer had thrown his arms over his head to protect himself from the flying glass. Logan withdrew his claws and gut-punched the sniper with all his strength, then clocked him in the head viciously for good measure as the shooter doubled over in agony.

Cyclops knew they had less than two minutes before the noise drew people to come investigate. "Rogue!" He indicated the man she had knocked out. "Grab him and fly out of here. Take him to the white rock clearing north of town. We'll meet you there." She lost no time in doing so, flying right back out of the shattered door. Wolverine had hoisted the other man over his shoulder and was already moving. They successfully evaded pursuit, and shortly reconvened deep in the woods outside of Salem Center.

The prisoners were unceremoniously dumped on the ground, disarmed, tied, and thoroughly searched. At Scott's nod, Jean closed her eyes and brought them back to consciousness. Cyclops stepped forward as the men opened their eyes and moaned in pain. "Who gave you the orders to kill the girl? How many of you are there?"

The sniper hawked and spat at his captors. "Mutant scum! You're animals, all of you! You don't deserve to live in the same world with real people. You should be shot like animals!"

Wolverine growled and popped his claws, pulling an arm back to strike. Scott waved him off sternly and ordered, "Jean, take it."

The red-haired telepath stepped forward and narrowed her eyes as she focused. It didn't take her long to find the information they needed. "They dealt with Devan personally. No one else knows why they're here. There's only the two of them. They were to report back to him with proof once Jeryn was dead."

Rogue commented grimly, "Well, you boys are gonna have a hard time doin' that. Y'see, your boss' had a permanent change of address and there ain't no roads'll take you to where he is now."

The sniper's eyes went wide with shock and rage. "Lies! All lies! You mutant bastards are hiding the girl! As soon as I get out of here I'll bring back an army and we'll burn your cursed rats' nest to the ground!"

It was exactly the wrong thing for him to say. The eyes of all the X-Men went bleak. Storm looked at her commander anxiously. "What are we going to do with them? We can't just leave them here."

Wolverine snarled, "Why not? Trees can always use fertilizer."

Cyclops shook his head. "As much as I'd like to, it's too risky."

Jean stepped forward. "I'll do it. When I'm through with them they won't remember their own names. Or even how to talk," she added grimly.

The X-Men were startled. None of them had ever experienced such viciousness from their red-haired colleague before. Scott was the most shocked of all. "Jean, can you really do that?"

Dr. Gray replied, "Watch me." She looked at the men on the ground before her. In her mind she was reliving the hideous nightmares she had seen in Jeryn's psyche on the night of the girl's arrival – and every night since then. Only the Professor was privy to the depths of the horror that Jean had been working to banish from the young woman's mind. In the privacy of Xavier's study, she'd already broken down twice while discussing her work with her mentor. Knowing that these men were personally responsible for some of that horror broke down whatever reservations she normally had on the full use of her powers. Justice was about to keep a long-overdue appointment with these two.

She stepped forward without a word, reaching out for the sniper's forehead. The man screamed and tried to buck away, but his resistance ended the moment she made contact. Jean ruthlessly burned the man's psyche out to its very foundations, not even leaving him a language. It was over quickly. She repeated the process on the tracker. When she stood up the men were staring at the mutants blankly, totally slack in their bonds. "Let them go." Jean ordered. "They'll never be a threat to anyone, ever again." She left the clearing without another word.

Dr. Gray excused herself and Cat from their classes the next day, taking the girl for an all-day walk through the woods near the mansion. When they emerged at sunset the students at play on the lawns noticed that the teen's face was red and puffy, as though she'd been crying. The thing that puzzled them was that she was also gently smiling. They watched as the two women went their separate ways, the teen entering the mansion near the girls' dormitories, and the instructor headed for the main entrance.

For the first time since she'd arrived at Xavier's school, Jeryn slept that night without nightmares.


	25. Beginning

After all their planning, the implementation of their scheme was almost anticlimactic. A month after Lillandra returned to Chandilar, the X-Men carefully arranged a remote-controlled crash of their Shi'ar scoutship into the Marianis Islands. Cyclops - in full battle armor, to encourage student rumors - walked into the Political Science class and requested Jeryn's immediate assistance. The murmurs started before the door had even closed. They were further fueled when the departure of the Blackbird was noted by a strangely wakeful student body later that night.

Confirmation came when a truly grieving Xavier entered the dining hall the next morning. Conversation immediately died out when the headmaster's uncharacteristically bowed head was noted. His arms seemed nearly too heavy to push the wheels of his chair forward. Jean Gray walked behind him, one hand resting on a wheelchair handle and tears in her eyes. She assisted the professor to ascend the platform that held the head table. Instead of assuming his usual place behind the great table he wheeled his chair in front of it, to the center of the platform. "I have an unfortunate announcement to make" he informed the room. "Yesterday morning, we received a request for assistance. Due to the nature of the request, Cat was informed of the situation and subsequently volunteered her services."

The students in the room nodded. Who wouldn't volunteer to ride in the Blackbird? To be, temporarily, one of the X-Men?

Xavier had to close his eyes to reinforce his shielding against the shock he was about to create. He felt Jean behind him, a steady pillar of psychic power that he could lean on if he needed to. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "The mission was successful. But," he held up a hand to forestall the murmurs, "An unforeseen accident occurred." Silence fell across the room, dropping like a guillotine's blade. Xavier dropped his hand to the arm of his wheelchair.

Jean laid a hand on his shoulder and addressed the students herself. "Cat ... Jeryn ... was lost." Somewhere in the hall a piece of flatware fell, sounding unnaturally loud.

The professor quietly concluded the announcement. "A memorial service will be held in the garden tomorrow evening. Everyone is welcome to attend."

With that he turned his wheelchair and left the room, which remained silent until the hall doors had closed behind him. Jean steeled herself as the students' reaction broke over her like a waterfall and the X-Men took up the all-too-familiar task of consoling the bereaved.

In the infirmary below the main school, a young Shi'ar paced back and forth. Dr. McCoy had applied the skin graft from Lillandra to the copycat the prior evening, and the transformation had again occurred. Jeryn had been particularly nervous (and Dr McCoy intrigued) when the exact same non-identical transfiguration occurred. This time, Jean and Xavier had been able to help dampen the pain and shock. For safety's sake Jeryn had insisted that the skin graft be split and applied in two separate locations as a precaution against accidental loss of the DNA source. The next sticking point was to make sure that her mutant ability would continue to mimic Lillandra's form. They all nervously awaited the 24-hour limit that had marked her previous copies.

Beast was with her when she clapped her hands to her temples and bent over in pain and surprise. "Jeryn! What has happened? Shall I call the professor?"

The teen straightened up and massaged her temples. "No Doctor, it's okay. The professor must have just made the announcement upstairs. Caught me by surprise, that's all. It's easing off now." She reinforced her shields as Xavier and Jean had taught her, and the psychic assault mercifully retreated from her mind.

Beast was greatly relieved when she exhaled and straightened up again. "I would imagine that it will take some time to calm down your classmates." Jeryn agreed with her furry blue physician.

To pass the time she sat down at a computer console and began another review of Shi'ar civilization. Henry returned to his laboratory equipment. They were running a parallel set of genetic tests so that the computer-stamped dates and times would be in sync with their story. He had also begun tests attempting to discover the cause of the nonstandard copying.

Cat hadn't gotten too far into her review when she heard the door behind her open. Professor Xavier was in the doorway. "It's done" he informed her quietly.

She shut down her console. "I felt the reaction." They stood wordlessly for a minute before the teen turned away from him. "You've made the call to Lillandra?"

He nodded and wheeled his chair across the floor to her. "The ship will be here in three days."

Jeryn reviewed her newly acquired knowledge of Shi'ar spaceflight. "A day to get clear enough of the throne world to create a wormhole, a day in the wormhole, and a day to decelerate and get into Earth orbit unseen."

The professor gave a grunt of acknowledgement. What he wanted to do most at that moment was to make his student reconsider, to back out of this dangerous scheme. He knew that she was determined to see it through, however. He couldn't help but respect and admire her for it. "Jeryn, I just wanted to say ... thank you. And to give you this." The ersatz Shi'ar turned to him in puzzlement as he extended a hand towards her. She held out her own - and he tipped a familiar circled X into her palm. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at her mentor, who said softly "You're as much an X-Man as any other student I've ever taught. I'm proud of you." She threw her arms around the only man that her heart would ever again call father and they hugged each other, crying.

Lillandra arrived on schedule. She brought her personal bodyguard, Gladiator, down to the planet with her. By prearrangement, they ran through the entire "discovery sequence" without informing Gladiator of the true provenance of the new Heir. His memories of the event would surely be called upon later to verify the details of this critical first meeting. The Majestrix could legitimately decline a mind-scan on the basis of her need to keep state secrets, but Gladiator could not.

Their plan worked beautifully; the empress' bodyguard reacted exactly as they had anticipated, suspicion and all. After he had been reluctantly convinced by the genetic scan that Lillandra ran with her own hands, it was logical that she should set up strong mind-shields in her bodyguard to protect that information. Only after those shields were in place did they reveal the imposture.

The next three days were spent in briefing Jeryn on the Shi'ar situation, briefing Gladiator on Jeryn, and preparing substitute teachers to run the school for the two weeks that the X-Men would spend on Chandilar. It was grueling for Cat, who spent much of the time in mindlink with Lillandra, Charles, and Gladiator. What time she didn't spend in mindlink was spent flying. They used the Shi'ar transporter to move back and forth between their supposed "crash site" daily - giving Jeryn a remote location to hone her flying skills. A level of expertise sufficient for a twenty-four hour transformation was woefully inadequate now. She almost literally fell into bed at the end of each day, exhausted both mentally and physically.


	26. Journey

It had been decided not to announce Jeryn's presence to the crew of Lillandra's ship. Rejoicing there would certainly have been, but the inevitable spies would no doubt break the Majestrix's news too early. Gladiator insisted that he be allowed time to arrange a permanent security detail for the new heir before revealing such a tempting target to their enemies. So they decided to pass up the opportunity for revealing those spies amongst the crew.

They transported up to the ship at the end of the third day, leaving in the middle of the night so as not to be noticed by anyone at the school. Jeryn was swathed in a floor-length hooded cloak and further protected by psychic shields - her own, Xavier's, and Jean Gray's. The imposture began in truth the moment they materialized on the ship, for Lillandra's attitude and actions must be consistent with their story. Her flashing eyes and ill-contained excitement (as well as the cloaked stranger) had rumors flying faster than Shi'ar wings by the time they reached the imperial quarters. All the telepaths in their group could feel the psychic buzzing.

Jeryn was hastily installed in one of the rooms of Lillandra's shipboard suite. Suitable clothing was altered to fit her. And a very important detail - the first test of Cat's ability to pass as a Shi'ar - had to be tended to. During the second day of their return journey, Gladiator called a meeting of his most trusted security staff. His team was somewhat surprised when the Majestrix herself entered - with her cloaked and hooded companion in tow - and took over the meeting. "You have been summoned in order to address a matter requiring the highest possible security. I will shortly be making an announcement of great import to the entire Empire. Before that announcement can be made, appropriate precautions must be taken." She motioned to her companion, who stepped up to her side and dropped the hood as she announced, "A gift from the gods themselves has been given to the Shi'ar. Gentlemen, I present Imperial Princess Jeryn of the royal house of Chandilar."

The shocked guards remained silent as Jeryn divested herself of the cloak and stood wordlessly by Lillandra's side. All the soldiers searched her face, comparing the clan marking to their ruler's. The youngest of them stood up in consternation and exclaimed "Majestrix, this is impossible! Surely this must be an imposter trying to deceive us!"

Instead of taking the guard to task, the ruler of the Shi'ar gently smiled at him. "I am most grateful that this is not the case, young man. When my consort alerted me to the presence on his homeworld of a young Shi'ar who seemed to be of my house, I ordered tests done. Tests that I repeated myself as soon as we arrived at his world. Both sets of tests confirm that Jeryn can only be the true daughter of my parents, and an Imperial Princess. I will make the results of those tests publicly available, that all may see the proof. By the grace of the gods, though my parents are gone, the royal house has been given a true heir. It will be your duty to serve as her bodyguard."

Gladiator's personal assistant, the most senior of the men present, stood up. Gladiator introduced him to the new heir. "Princess, this is Vellan, the captain of my men. I have trained him myself. He is the only one I would trust to safeguard the Majestrix if I were unable to do so. He will make an excellent captain of your bodyguard."

Jeryn looked hesitatingly at Lillandra, which was part of their carefully scripted plan to convince the guards of her loyalty. She nodded encouragingly at the young woman and gestured at the guard. Now came the most important part of the test. To be effective, her bodyguard must be able to differentiate her from would-be imposters. It went without saying that Jeryn also needed to be able to recognize her true bodyguard. To a telepathic species, this meant that they must be able to recognize each other's characteristic thought patterns. Obediently, she let down her outer shields.

Lillandra, Xavier, and Jean Gray had spent days helping Jeryn to construct layers upon layers of mental shields. It was to be expected that there would be information an Imperial Princess would share only with certain people, and thus unlimited access to her thoughts would not be permitted. The Majestrix herself had done the finishing work on Jeryn's telepathic barriers. Anyone touching them would recognize Lillandra's telepathic "signature" in the girl's shields immediately. The time had come to see if Jeryn's most damning knowledge could be accessed by other telepaths. The only information they had left out in the open...

Lillandra could only breathe a mental prayer to Sharra and Ky'thri as she watched rapport begin. It seemed to take forever. In point of fact, it was over in the space of a dozen heartbeats. She saw Vellan and Jeryn's eyes begin focusing almost simultaneously as they brought their awarenesses back to the room. Relief she dared not express surged through her when the guard captain relaxed and bowed in salute. "I am most honored to be accepted as the captain of your bodyguard, Princess. I swear to you that I shall do my utmost always to ensure your safety." Jeryn nodded her acceptance of Vellan's oath. The guard swallowed nervously and then addressed his new charge. "Your Highness, if you will forgive me, but - your wings?"

The other security guards were puzzled by the odd request. Jeryn nodded and then - as she and Gladiator and Lillandra had rehearsed - slowly extended her wings until the pattern on them became clear to everyone in the room. Vellan and the other guards went wide-eyed as they took in the clearly defined symbols etched in the wings of the young heir.

Lillandra said to the captain softly, "Now you know why I repeated all of the tests for myself instead of trusting my consort's physician."

The captain of Jeryn's bodyguard swallowed hard against a lump that interfered with his speech. "A gift from the gods in truth, Your Majesty."

The Majestrix resumed control of the meeting. "The princess will be lodged in my old apartments in the Imperial Suite. I will keep her in my own quarters with me until you and Gladiator have completed a thorough security sweep of those rooms. I cannot stress to you enough the necessity of ensuring her safety."

Vellan spoke with awe in his voice. "Believe me, Your Majesty, I am acutely aware of it." He watched the young woman fold her wings, causing the symbols to disappear. "The gods themselves would probably strike me down if anything happened to her. Gladiator," he said, turning to his superior, "the next time you have such an assignment for me, would you mind giving me some warning?" The Majestrix' dour guardian actually cracked a small smile and chuckled at the plaint.

Lillandra gestured to Jeryn in indication that she should put on her cloak again. "We shall arrive at the homeworld in a day. Arrangements must be made for a global broadcast as soon as possible."

Vellan was surprised, "You will announce the Princess' arrival to all Shi'ar immediately? You will not tell the nobles first?"

Gladiator nodded at the captain seriously. "By showing Princess Jeryn to all Shi'ar right away, we ensure that our enemies will have no time to prepare an assassination attempt. If all the people know of her, she cannot "disappear" easily."

Lillandra took up the explanation. "I will convene a Council meeting as soon as the global announcement has been made. The loyal nobles will forgive me the shock, and the others..."

Vellan was thinking now, and mused, "The others will be so startled by the news that they may well give themselves away, presenting us with an advantage." He turned to his squad and began issuing orders. "Havis, you and Terr will guard the Princess with me during the public presentation. The rest of you, disperse yourselves among the crowd. You know whom we suspect of opposing the Majestrix. Even more importantly, observe those we do _**not **_suspect. Watch carefully. Report their reactions to me and to Gladiator. An enemy who betrays himself is an enemy half-beaten."

Gladiator then brought up a point, according to their script. "Majestrix, when you formally declare the Princess to be your Heir..."

Lillandra held up a hand to stop him. "I will not be doing so immediately."

Vellan and the guards were shocked. "But Majestrix! Begging your forgiveness..." one man objected.

"Think of it" Lillandra urged. "We know that my sister is in league with those who oppose me. Chandilar and the Empire have been quiet only because I had no other heir, and she could afford to bide her time. She will undoubtedly react badly to the presence of our sister - who is loyal to me."

Gladiator mused aloud, "Name the Princess Jeryn Imperial Heir, and your sister has nothing left to lose by attacking either of you. Open warfare would erupt as soon as she had gathered her forces. Assassins would lurk in every doorway."

Lillandra nodded in agreement. "Kill me, and she can claim the throne as Jeryn's elder sister. Jeryn does not yet have the alliances among the nobles that she would need to repel such an assault. If the nobles even stayed neutral, Jeryn would lose."

One of the lesser guards spoke up. "And if Princess Jeryn were assassinated, we would be back to a standoff at best."

Gladiator corrected, "Worse than a standoff. We would be forced to hunt and execute Her Majesty's sister as a traitor, leaving the Empire with no heir at all. The nobles would go to war, competing for the position."

Lillandra put an arm around Jeryn's shoulders and looked at the loyal guardsmen. "If I delay naming Jeryn Heir, then my elder sister must move cautiously, slowly. She will not risk being named traitor while Jeryn is alive, for that would invalidate her claim to the Throne. You must buy us time, gentlemen. My younger sister is unfamiliar with our people, and with our court. If the Empire is to know true peace, she must have the time she needs to prepare herself to take the reins of power when I am gone. The responsibility for giving her that time is in your hands."

Vellan and the other guards immediately went to their knees. "Then have it she shall, my Empress." Vellan swore for all of them. "We will not fail you."

Lillandra acknowledged the oaths and indicated to Jeryn that she should raise her hood again. "By my order, requisition anything you need in order to ensure her safety. All additional personnel are to be investigated thoroughly and approved by Gladiator or myself before they are added to my sister's retinue. My own attendants will also serve her until others have been cleared. The global announcement will be made the day after our arrival, so that our enemies will have no time to prepare a countermove. Until then, she will remain incognito in my own rooms. My consort's students will companion her. Those who are curious will think that she is one of them. You will report to us on your progress."

The guards rose to their feet and saluted as Lillandra and Jeryn left the room. Gladiator could see Vellan looking after them anxiously, uncomfortable already at having his charge leave his sight. The new guard captain would much have preferred to have his entire troop escort them back to quarters, but they couldn't afford such an obvious giveaway. To relieve his anxiety, he turned to his men and began issuing orders. There was so little time left before all hell was going to break loose. Yet despite it all, he had an overwhelming sense of joy coursing through his blood. _We have a true Heir, at last!_


	27. Persona

The Shi'ar ship sped through the wormhole towards Chandilar. Except for the meeting with her new bodyguards and meals, Jeryn spent most of her time in mindlink with the Majestrix, Xavier, or Jean Gray.

They'd all been relieved when Lillandra reported success in getting the security forces to accept the teen as her younger sister. Cyclops commented ruefully, "Now all we have to do is get the rest of the Imperium to accept her."

Jeryn ate voraciously when the midday meal was served. The constant exercise of her new-minted telepathic communication ability was as draining as any physical activity and gave her a hearty appetite. Once she finished the meal she stretched out on an odd couch that accommodated her wings. To the X-Men, the young mutant appeared to be resting. In reality she'd started an intense briefing with the other telepaths. _The meeting with security was short enough to make little difference, but we've got to get my public persona nailed down before I encounter any more Shi'ar,_ Jeryn commented to the Majestrix.

_True,_ Lillandra replied thoughtfully. _Inconsistent behavior will alert people that something is not as it seems, and that we cannot afford._

The mutant replied, _If I'd been adrift by myself in space for years, I'd have to be self-reliant to have survived. It'd be natural for me to be withdrawn at first, because of having been alone for so long, and of course you would have warned me about the people in the Court. I can't play the 'shrinking violet' for too long though. It doesn't jibe with my supposed background._

The Professor contributed, _Being warned about those in the court would apply to Deathbird as well, meaning that as an honest and honorable Shi'ar your personal loyalty would naturally go to Lillandra._

Jean felt a moment of whimsy, _and as an honorable and loyal Shi'ar she'd support her sister's choice of consort, particularly as you had a hand in rescuing her and returning her to the Empire, _she needled her mentor lightly.

Xavier gave his protegé a loaded glance, making his wife laugh with delight.

Jean returned to the subject, _Personal loyalty to Lillandra has got to be a huge part of your public persona. It'll shield you from a lot of things, especially as she'll be as steadfast towards you._

_Indeed, and there will be those who are loyal to me who will accept Jeryn even if they do suspect her origins, because of that personal loyalty, _the Majestrix added.

The rest of the X-Men settled themselves around the room and found quiet activities to occupy them. Wolverine sat down in a chair, stretched his legs out in front of him, crossed his arms, and was soon snoring.

_Okay,_ the ersatz Imperial Princess sent, _so initial caution, obvious loyalty to Lillandra, self-reliance and the confidence that results from it. I should probably appear to be a bit impulsive – someone who's survived years lost in space would be used to making their own decisions and acting on them. There are sure to be *some* people who try to get me, so if we give them an obvious character flaw to focus on we'll be able to set counter-traps for them._

The Majestrix was startled by the last observation, because it was so accurate. She hadn't expected such a thing to occur to the teen.

Jeryn didn't notice Lillandra's surprise and asked_, What else? _Then her eyes opened for a moment and narrowed as something occurred to her.

Jean caught the sense of inspiration but couldn't pin down what it was. _Such as?_ she prompted the young mutant.

Cat paused and got her thoughts in order, then sent to the galactic ruler, _One of your biggest headaches is the religious, correct? Because of your marriage to Xavier?_

Lillandra was startled, to say the least. _Yes, so?_

Jeryn had a proposal for the group. _Given the story that Lillandra's father survived long enough to teach me enough to enable me to survive, one would think that he'd also have imparted his religious beliefs, correct?_

The two elder X-Men turned to the Majestrix in surprise. _Yes, _the Shi'ar replied cautiously, _he was neither a fanatically devout man nor an atheist, in our terms. Why do you ask?_

They all caught a sense of smugness from the princess. _It would be natural for someone who was rescued from being lost in space by 'the will of the Gods' to be quite grateful to said gods, don't you think?_

Xavier responded, _A reasonable assumption, and in keeping with our story, but what purpose does this serve?_

The young mutant definitely had an aura of 'the cat who ate the canary' about her. She looked at her purported 'elder sister' and sent, _If I'm very publicly grateful and faithful to the gods, the priesthood would be falling all over themselves to take advantage of the opportunity to influence me, wouldn't they? If, however, I'm even __**more**__ publicly loyal to you..._

Delight lit Lillandra's face up like a small sun. _They would strangle themselves in their attempts to avoid antagonizing me, lest they find their access to you cut off!_

Charles wasn't quite so sanguine about the idea. _It certainly sounds plausible enough, but that will expose you to much more intrigue and machinations. Is that wise?_

Cat closed her eyes and sighed. _Professor, think a minute. I have to act like our story is true. I have to act and react as if I've lived it. If I am Lillandra's long-lost sister come home, I'm not coming home for a visit. My whole attitude has to be that I'm home to stay, that I'm committed to her and her leadership of the Imperium, that as a loyal subject and sister I'll do whatever she needs me to do, whatever it takes to serve and protect her. It'll be expected and natural for me to be a tyro as far as politics and court intrigue goes,_ she paused to direct her thoughts to the Majestrix, _and you damn well need to give me a thorough briefing on __**that.**_She turned her focus back to Charles, _but I absolutely have to act authentically down to the last detail. That's the biggest guarantor of safety I have._

There wasn't any disagreeing with that statement. The more Jeryn acted like the real thing, the more she was likely to come home alive.

After a few moments Lillandra sent to the young mutant, _There is something else you should be aware of._

When Cat sent a '?' the Majestrix replied, _By the standards of Shi'ar culture, you are quite a beautiful young woman. While there will be many who are attracted to you because of the potential connection to Imperial power you present, there will be those who are attracted to you for other reasons as well._

The three adults all saw Jeryn shudder very physically, and knew the cause. To Cat's credit, she didn't refer to her past, _And beauty, appropriately wielded, is as potent a weapon as any other. Thank you for telling me, I'll keep it in mind._


	28. Cuckoo

Gladiator and Vellan arranged to have the royal landing facility cleared before their arrival. Lillandra and her company were escorted through empty halls to the imperial living quarters without incident. The security men left to prepare quarters for the new heir and the Majestrix' guests.

Once the guards had left, Jeryn removed her cloak. She looked around the "public" rooms of Lillandra's quarters. The greatest artworks of the Empire adorned the walls. Precious woods, metals, and gems were tastefully displayed. The furniture was covered in rich fabrics. Bright sunlight lit the entire suite through enormous skylights. Jean Gray smiled at her friend "Bet this is like nothing you've ever seen before."

The X-Men watched their young compatriot fondly as she took in her surroundings with widened eyes. When she'd finished her scan of the suite, Jeryn commented to Lillandra softly "The most beautiful cage I've ever seen."

The empress saluted her younger sister in ironic acknowledgment. "As before, you quickly see to the heart of the matter."

Cyclops caustically remarked "Even if she _has_ been taking lessons in tact from Logan."

Surprisingly, Jeryn blushed. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, that was incredibly rude."

She would have stammered on further, but Lillandra chuckled and laid a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder. "Your bluntness is refreshing, but it will cause great difficulty when you must deal with tender noble egos. I welcome it for myself, but let it remain private between the two of us." Jeryn quickly agreed.

Lillandra turned to face the X-Men. "We should get started. There is much to be done. Jean, would you, Storm, and Rogue take my sister to my dressing room? My clothiers will have to create proper attire for Jeryn for tomorrow's presentation, but I would not have more people than necessary know of her presence. I will bring them to you myself. I must also summon those who will be responsible for tomorrow's broadcast, and my palace guard, and brief them. I shall have food and drink brought for us all. Charles, I will need you to assist me in making the arrangements."

Xavier smiled as his wife seamlessly shifted into her habitual role. "Logan, Scott, if you'd guard the door to the dressing room please? Henry, would you assist me?" The professor wheeled his chair to the specially built ramp which lead to his and Lillandra's private chamber, where his Shi'ar hoverlift and formal consort's clothing were kept.

The Majestrix' public rooms were soon astir with activity. One of Lillandra's poor personal clothiers actually fainted with shock and joy when they were introduced to the new princess. Both of them nearly did so again when they were informed of how little time they had to create appropriate clothing for her. Gladiator had several of his security men assist the clothiers in fetching equipment and materials (which they thoroughly inspected before bringing them to the imperial apartments) so that the needed work could be done on the spot.

Food was brought and left for all of them, while Lillandra summoned her communications directors. Cyclops and Wolverine stood unobtrusive guard over the door to the dressing rooms while she conferred. Blueprints were brought, and the empress pointed out where the party would enter and where they would stand during the announcement. Lighting, security, and camera positions were discussed and agreed upon. The communications people left along with some of Vellan's men to oversee the work. As soon as the room was cleared of onlookers, Scott fetched a filled tray from the table and brought it to the dressing room.

Lillandra came in to view the clothiers' progress and make suggestions. Gladiator and two of his security men were sent with Imperial orders to fetch certain items from the treasury and armory. Vellan returned late in the afternoon to report that Jeryn's new quarters would be ready for her on the morrow. It was early evening before the majestrix was satisfied with the clothiers' work. The clothiers were dismissed under guard; they would be taken to temporary quarters for the night to ensure that they could not communicate with outsiders in the hours before the public presentation.

Everyone gathered in the main public room, which was easily large enough to host a small reception. Another meal had been brought, and the X-Men were giving it due attention while discussing the next day's plans. The one person who wasn't eating much was Jeryn, and the professor commented on it. "Looks like someone has quite the case of nerves." He sent a telepathic wave of fond reassurance as he said it.

Jeryn had been pacing around the room, clad now in a soft gold singlesuit that beautifully accented her chestnut colored feathers. Her nervousness was evident to all. Ororo smiled at the young woman and urged food on the new heir. "You'll make yourself sick if you don't eat anything, Jeryn. Come over and have something."

The princess said ruefully "Right now, anything I ate would probably come back up as fast as it went down."

Jean Gray would have gone to her friend, but a telepathic request from Lillandra stopped her. _Let me. I'll take care of her._ Jean looked at Xavier for confirmation, and he gave a small nod. Both of them knew that it was time for Jeryn to be transferred to Lillandra's physical and psychic care. The Majestrix rose and crossed the room to take her sister with a comforting hand. She steered the princess towards what Xavier knew to be Lillandra's personal meditation room. "Don't wait up for us, we'll be gone a while." the empress called back to her friends.

The room she led Jeryn to was roofed almost entirely in the Shi'ar equivalent of glass. Night had fallen, and a panorama of stars stretched from horizon to horizon. The lights of the capital were a poor and glaring imitation of the magnificent starscape.

Lillandra left the room lights off; the city glow made them unnecessary. She steered her young sister to a couple of reclining chairs set under the largest window. The room was comfortably warm, the chairs designed to support a Shi'ar body without binding delicate wings. Peace descended on Jeryn like a near-palpable blanket as she settled into a chair.

The Majestrix sighed as she also settled down. "Whenever the pressure becomes too great, I can come here and watch the stars. Let me show you something." She pressed a button recessed into the arm of her chair, and a softly glowing green circle lit up on the ceiling. "See there? That is Sol, your Earth's sun. I often come here to watch that star, knowing that Charles is there. I wonder sometimes if he is looking back at me."

Jeryn looked through the glass at the dot of light for a few minutes. Lillandra quietly asked her, "Do you miss it?"

The young woman shook her head. "No. I've said my farewells to it."

The Shi'ar looked at her in startlement. "You sound as if you expect never to see it again."

The mutant confirmed, "I expect I never will."

Lillandra was shocked. "But your family, your friends! Surely you will see them when you return?"

The princess closed her eyes. "Except for the professor and the X-Men, they are all gone – or as good as gone. If I may be blunt, the chances of pulling this off are not good. I'm just hoping to last long enough to give you the break that you need. If I am discovered, which I expect I will be eventually, there is no way that I could return to Earth."

It was her stark acceptance of the fact rather than the statement itself that shocked the empress. "But why not?!"

Her heir addressed her soberly. "If I were discovered and returned to Earth, everyone would assume that the Professor was part of the imposture. Which he is. You would be forced to order his judicial execution. I won't allow that. If I flee elsewhere, you can convince everyone that he was innocent, duped by an evil doppelganger. Because he isn't Shi'ar, most of your people would believe such a story." She turned to her elder sister, "I would ask that you make provision for me to run, in case it becomes necessary. If I can't run, if I'm caught..." The empress was speechless at Jeryn's comprehensive grasp of the situation. "Then I ask of your mercy kill me yourself, quickly. Before I can betray the Professor or the X-Men. I owe them that much."

Lillandra was aghast – and stunned. "Time and again you amaze me with your understanding of our situation."

They were quiet for some time. The noises of the city could not penetrate the thick shielding of the room, so the only sound was their barely audible breathing. Lillandra resorted to an old trick that one of her telepathy instructors had taught her. She matched her breathing rate to Jeryn's - and then gradually slowed her own. It worked beautifully. She heard the girl yawn and stretch, releasing some of the tension of the day. She smiled ruefully to herself, then said quietly, "Jeryn, I want to thank you. Helping Charles and I aside, I'm more grateful than you can know just to have a friend that I can talk to..."

The empress fell silent and settled back into her chair, while her Heir thought very privately, _Maybe I understand even better than you think, heart-sister_


	29. Presentation

Lillandra and Jeryn returned after an hour's time to find that the men had retired. Xavier had gone to his and Lillandra's private bedroom, and the other men were bedded down in the outermost chamber of the suite. Four cots were in the rear corner of the main reception room. Rogue, with her invincible body, was nearest the door. Storm was nearest the center of the room, giving her a clear shot at any intruders. Jean was on the inside, where she was both protected and able to see to focus a psychic attack. Jeryn's cot was in the rear, behind them all.

Rogue and Storm were chatting quietly; Jean appeared to be asleep, though Jeryn's telepathic senses told her otherwise. Lillandra gave her a hug, and left for her own room. The princess crawled into the empty cot, and Rogue turned the lights out. Steady breathing soon told Jeryn that Rogue and Storm had fallen asleep. Jeryn reached out with her newly minted telepathic senses towards the locus of sorrow that was Jean Gray, with the light touch that was the telepathic equivalent of a polite knock on a door. Tears were flowing silently down Jean's face as she relaxed her outermost layer of shields in response to the request.

Jeryn had known that her friend was awake and upset from the moment she had entered the room. Since they had first met in the infirmary at Xavier's school, there had been a particularly close bond between the two of them. What had started out as a friendship born of compassion, empathy, and shared pain had turned into nearly a mother-daughter relationship between the two. There were few hidden thoughts among telepaths - and no escaping from one's own emotions, either. The maternal feelings that Jean had been unable to put aside came bursting forth as her young friend wrapped her in wordless thanks, love, and comfort. Without exchanging a word, their emotions said all that needed to be said before they fell asleep.

They were all up early, even though the presentation would not take place until midday. They had a substantial breakfast, for Lillandra and Jeryn would be going to a Council meeting directly after the presentation was finished. They had debated on whether Xavier should attend the meeting; he had the right to be there, since he was Imperial Consort. It was decided in the end that it would be best that he not appear though, as many of the nobles remained irritated by his ongoing association with Lillandra. They needed to have Jeryn accepted as quickly as possible, and his presence could slow down the process by distracting everyone from the issue at hand.

The royals changed into their formal attire, which seemed to be composed of as much hidden weaponry as fabric. Gladiator came in to report on the security arrangements. A final dress run of the ceremony was made to ensure that everyone knew their parts perfectly. They reviewed everything that they thought of that could possibly go wrong, and how to deal with it. By late morning, everyone was as ready as they were going to be.

Lillandra and Jeryn were resplendent in their gold attire. A rich chestnut and gold cloak that would conceal the new heir until the proper moment was draped over a divan. Everyone was conversing quietly, waiting. Only the conspirators were in the room. Jeryn stood up and crossed the room to where Xavier and his wife were conferring, and everyone saw her stop a wingspan away from Lillandra. "Majestrix, there's something I'd like to say. I'll be repeating a version of this later in front of the nobles, but it means more to me to say it now."

The empress watched mystified as Jeryn sank to one knee, raised her joined hands as if in prayer, and began speaking. "I, Jeryn, being of age, do willingly enter your homage and become your liegeman of life and limb and earthly worship. Faith and truth will I bear unto you, to live and die against all manner of folks, so help me God."

Xavier recognized the old oath of fealty taking to a sovereign lord. Touched by the gesture, he sent a thought-burst of explanation to his wife. The majestrix was equally moved. Her heir would of course swear an oath of loyalty before the Shi'ar nobles. By swearing before the members of their conspiracy however, Jeryn was confirming her willing and total commitment to the task at hand - and to Lillandra personally.

Prompted by Charles' information, she took Jeryn's joined hands between her own and returned the oath. "And this do I, Lillandra of the Shi'ar, pledge; to return loyalty for loyalty, honor for service, to bear faith and truth unto you, and to protect you, my sister, Princess Jeryn of Earth and the Shi'ar, against all manner of folk. I call on Sharra and Ky'thri to witness these vows and bless them." She raised Jeryn up by their joined hands, and they embraced warmly. Lillandra looked at her heir with tears in her eyes. "I thank the gods for giving me such a wonderful sister to share my journey with." They embraced again and then Jeryn backed away, giving the majestrix formal obeisance.

Gladiator stepped forward and cleared his throat. It was time. The X-Men rose. Jeryn claimed the cloak from the divan. Jean helped her to get it in place, sending her friend a wordless burst of approval and love. They assembled themselves into the proper formation, and went out to introduce Jeryn to the Shi'ar.

The group proceeded under heavy guard from the Imperial Quarters to the main presentation hall from which the rulers of the Shi'ar customarily addressed their people. Jeryn was under double - or even triple – guard. For she was surrounded not only by Gladiator's men, but within them by Vellan and her own personal guard, and within that by the X-Men. When Lillandra sent a brief telepathic query, Jeryn gave the equivalent of a disdainful snort and replied, _If someone took my feet off right now no one would ever notice it, because all these bodies would keep me marching right along!_ A smile briefly traveled across the empress' face as she advised her young friend, _Get used to it. _A wordless sigh was the only response.

They didn't have to travel very long. A brisk ten-minute walk brought them to the doors of the hall. Jeryn and her group stayed by the door while the majestrix went forward to confirm that all was in readiness. When she returned – ostensibly to her consort – she gave the group a quick nod before leading them into the hall.

Jeryn took in a huge gulp of air and squared her shoulders against the fears that arose inside her. It was way too late to back out now. The only way open was forward. She felt a surge of gratitude at a wave of telepathic reassurance from Jean, who was right behind her.

Cheers erupted from the massed voices of the thousands of Shi'ar who had assembled to view the presentation, representing billions who were scattered around the homeworld and beyond. It continued for some time, as Gladiator's men secured defensive positions around the speaker's platform. Lillandra was as well beloved and respected a monarch as her father had been.

When the platform had been secured Lillandra walked alone to center stage. A small computer bank stood before her. She was acutely aware of the need for her people's approval, and let the cheers carry on for some few minutes before holding up a hand for their forbearance. The crowd hushed in order to hear her words clearly. When the hall was as quiet as it was likely to get she dropped her hand, breathed a silent prayer to the gods, and began.

"My beloved people. I come before you this day filled with a joy such as I have never known." The crowd seethed with excitement; from the majestrix' words and demeanor, they gathered that the news she was about to reveal was for good, rather than ill. Lillandra actively scanned the gathering, both to make her subjects feel that she was looking at them individually, and also to scan for potential troublemakers.

"As you all know, my parents of blessed memory – may Sharra and Ky'thri guard their souls – were lost to us many years ago, in a remote sector of Our Empire. Though the greatest search in our history was mounted immediately, their ship had disappeared, never to be found." Noise from the crowd swelled in anticipation. Had the Emperor been found?!

Lillandra continued, "For many years our ships combed that area of space, seeking some news or sign of our beloved Emperor and Empress. I rejoice to inform you that after all these long years, that sign has been found!" As she had expected, sound erupted in the hall, temporarily drowning her out. While the crowd seethed in excitement, the Majestrix turned and beckoned to the cloaked stranger standing among her consort's students.

They had debated whether or not Xavier should accompany Jeryn to Lillandra's side. Again, they had ultimately decided against it, wanting to distance Jeryn from the imperial consort in case of a disaster. It was also symbolic, having her walk the considerable distance to Lillandra's side alone. The Majestrix kept her hand extended while Cat deliberately crossed the hall. The crowd buzzed with anticipation. Surely the cloaked and hooded one was a messenger of some sort, come to report to the Empress?

They saw the richly garbed figure stop at the prescribed distance and go to one knee, bowing deeply before the galactic ruler. Only when Lillandra gestured permission did the figure rise and approach. Confusion permeated the crowd sounds – normally no one was allowed to approach the Empress so closely. Confusion turned to outright astonishment as Lillandra drew the hooded figure close in to her, laying an arm across the shoulders of the mysterious one. This flew in the face of all precedent! No one was allowed contact with the Imperial personage! Why was the Empress' bodyguard taking no action?

Lillandra raised her voice and spoke in her best parade-ground command tones to cut through the din. "My people! From beyond the grave my parents have sent us an answer to our greatest prayers. I present to you the Imperial Princess Jeryn!" With a swift tug, Lillandra pulled the concealing hood from the young woman's head. The astonished crowd went berserk.


	30. Reveal

Cameras all over the hall zoomed in on the stranger's face. Display screens all over Chandilar and beyond focused on the young woman, and on her clan-markings. For a full half-hour the noise from the crowd made further speech impossible. Jeryn was forced to stand impassively throughout it all, without assistance. The pressure of tens of thousands of telepathic minds seeking to touch hers was beyond belief. Her guards did their best to shield her, just as Lillandra's were shielding the majestrix. But they couldn't totally divert the attentions of so many telepaths. Nor did they want to. Jeryn had to stand before the populace and impress them with her psychic strength – a marked characteristic of the Imperial bloodline. Though no sign of the effort she was exerting showed upon her face, she was forced to throw everything she had into keeping her shields impenetrable. She knew very well that she would pay dearly for it later.

When the crowd noise finally began to ebb, the Majestrix seized the momentum back and began speaking again. The move was well timed – people hushed themselves in order to hear the tale she related. "Just over a week ago, I received an urgent communique from my consort's homeworld. Lord Xavier informed me that his students, responding to what appeared to be a Shi'ar distress beacon, had discovered a lone Shi'ar female bearing my clan markings at a new crash site on the far side of their very planet. His own data indicated that the markings were genuine, and he implored me to bring my own scientists and discover the truth."

Like Jeryn, Xavier made no acknowledgment as the muttering of the crowd indicated their focus on him. This was a dangerous point in their plan. Many would suspect deception, just because he was non-Shi'ar, and therefore not to be trusted. Others would acknowledge Lillandra's acceptance of him as Consort and presume he had simply been fulfilling his duties. It was imperative to reinforce that perception – and to get the main focus off of him as quickly as possible.

Lillandra went on without emphasizing the professor's contribution any further. "I brought my own equipment and performed the tests with my own hands, with my chief bodyguard as witness." She drew a small device out of her tunic and held it aloft for all to see. "I repeat this test before all of you now, to prove the truth of her claim." She stepped to the young woman's side and in a swift movement jabbed the pointed end of the device into the girl's neck. Cat had been expecting Lillandra to ask for her hand from which to draw the blood sample. The young woman's violent flinch made it obvious to everyone in the hall that the Majestrix' action was completely unanticipated. Jeryn controlled her response while the older woman walked over to the computer bank and inserted the blood sample into the diagnostic unit.

The galactic ruler gestured at the monitors, which now switched from their focus on Jeryn's face (welcome relief!) to a split-screen display of three sets of rapidly scrolling data readouts. Green lights dominated the display panels. "You will see that the results are the same, down to the last detail" (which of course would help reinforce Xavier's reputation in the minds of the Shi'ar)." She continued, "Without question, the woman who stands beside me now is the natural daughter of my parents, the last Emperor and Empress of the Shi'ar." She turned and fervently embraced her younger sister.

The crowd went wild. Xavier was totally forgotten. Every member of the Imperial Guard in the auditorium was riding adrenaline, primed to react instantly if things got out of hand. Under the cover of the embrace Lillandra sent Jeryn all the fervent reassurance she could. The new Imperial Princess had to take the next step totally alone. Everything hinged on how well she could endear herself to the people of the Empire. With the approval of the populace behind her any treachery would be forced to wait, giving her the precious time she needed to safeguard herself against it.

The dreaded moment came all too soon. The Majestrix gestured for her to step in front and address the gathering. The princess bowed her head and closed her eyes in acknowledgment and took two deliberate paces forward, breathing a prayer to all the gods as she did so. She opened her eyes and raised her head to begin scanning the faces in the crowd, as Lillandra had done. Quiet fell with surprising swiftness as she began to speak.

"Shi'ar'i, I am honored to be among you at last." The rich soprano voice was steady and sure. "For many years since the deaths of my parents I have wandered from planet to planet, searching blindly for the race I belonged to, for the Home that my parents told me of. With every year that passed, my hopes grew dimmer. Habitable planets were few and far between, and the small ship that my father had cobbled together was never expected to last as long as it did. A fortnight ago the main drive finally failed. It was a miracle that the ship lasted long enough to survive a planetary landing – for I did not dare to risk being stranded in space."

Jeryn looked at the floor as if caught briefly in memory and then looked back up at the crowd, saying ruefully, "A friend of mine told me that any landing you can walk away from is a good one, but I had several broken bones that would sorely dispute him." Laughter went through the assembly at this personal and candid admission. More at ease now, Jeryn returned to her reporting.

"My ship was lost at sea. I managed to grab a medkit and get to shore. I'd only just managed to repair my broken bones when a strange airplane descended from the sky. Before I could do anything, a mindvoice from the ship hailed me as Shi'ar, and I knew that I had been found by friends."

Xavier and Jean Gray were astonished as their friend's story unwound. Every word, every psychic nuance rang with absolute sincerity. Jean felt half convinced of the tale herself. Without looking at her mentor, she shot a tightly focused thought burst at the Professor. _Charles, it's working! Look at the crowd. Look at her!_

A mournful reply made her turn her head in surprise. _Exactly as I feared, Jean._ The redhead was thoroughly confused. _Feared? Why?_ She was shocked to see a tear running down Xavier's cheek.

He didn't turn to face her as he explained. _Because once she committed herself to this course with her whole heart, she had no choice but to __**become**__ the Shi'ar Imperial Heir completely. That is the only course that has any hope of succeeding in this masquerade. To be the Imperial Heir to a race of telepaths she must eat, sleep, breathe, and live every moment as the Heir. If, God willing, this imposture succeeds for a long enough period of time, will there be anything left of Jeryn the Copycat to return to Earth by then?_ His mask of impassivity broke for a moment and he covered it swiftly by pretending to mop sweat from his face.

Taken aback, Jean returned her attention to the young woman who was now wrapping up her speech. All her experiences with Jeryn flashed swiftly through her mind and filled her heart with a comforting certainty. _I don't think you need to worry, Professor,_ the empath responded softly. _Doing this with her whole heart_ _is __**exactly**__ what will ensure that Cat isn't lost. Only Lillandra and the X-Men will ever see her, but she'll always remember who she is, and she'll always be there._

She returned her attention to the scene in front of her as her own heart filled with serenity and pride.


	31. Princess

Their exchange hadn't taken very long; Jeryn had only just finished her version of the "rescue" and Lillandra's arrival. She moved into her conclusion as Jean refocused.

"I am grateful to Sharra and Ky'thri beyond measure that I have found my family and my people at last. Gladly will I serve my elder sister all my life, pledging her my love and loyalty forever. And to you do I also pledge my loyalty, Shi'ar'i, to serve however my beloved sister sees fit." Breaking all tradition (which she supposedly didn't know much about anyway, having grown up away from "civilization"), Cat knelt down on one knee and bowed her head before the audience in physical demonstration of her vow. Cheers erupted as the crowd roared approval of their new princess.

After a few moments, Jeryn stood and once again faced the assembly. Lillandra gestured to her sister, making her own approval clear. Both women stood still and let the crowd spend its energy in exuberance. They were almost there. Now came the kicker.

The Majestrix held up her hand and the crowd reluctantly quieted. "My people. I can well understand that some of you may still hold doubts about my sister." The ensuing boos and hisses were surprisingly strong and gratifying. Lillandra continued. "Even with the evidence of my own analyses – which I shall make available for public inspection – I must confess that I had doubts of my own. It is my sworn duty to ensure that the Empire does not fall into the hands of an impostor. How was I to ensure this, laying all doubt to rest? Only by placing it before Those who laid that duty on me. I prayed to Sharra and Ky'thri to give me a sign, and They answered."

Lillandra's words gave Jeryn her cue. She dropped the brown and gold cloak from her shoulders. The great chestnut wings, which had remained close furled during the entire proceeding, now opened like mainsails catching a tradewind. The sigils embedded in the chestnut feathers glowed ebon, clear for all to see. Several people in the audience screamed, and others fainted in shock. Lillandra seized the moment before the dam could burst. She stepped forward and laid a hand on Jeryn's shoulder in approval. "Directly by the hands of the Gods Themselves has our sister been brought home to us, the final gift of our beloved Emperor and Empress. I swear to cherish and honor that gift, for as long as I live."

At that, Jeryn turned to face the galactic ruler (backing up a step so that her wing would clear) and knelt before her sovereign. She bowed her head and offered Lillandra her joined hands as she spoke in a carrying voice. "I, Jeryn, true-born daughter of the last Emperor of the Shi'ar, do willingly enter the service of my elder sister Lillandra, by the Grace of Sharra and Ky'thri, Empress of the Shi'ar, to serve her and the Empire with love, honor, and respect to the end of my days." The flood broke free; the crowd began screaming their joy. Lillandra's return oath was captured for the record by the microphones both she and Jeryn wore, but the sound of it was lost in the exultation of an Empire that had a true Heir at last.

Lillandra and Cat stood before the screaming crowd for some time, allowing them to spend their exuberance. When the majestrix judged that enough time had elapsed, she led her new sister from the podium. The two women headed for the withdrawing room behind the presentation hall. Gladiator directed both sets of bodyguards to secure the room. Only the X-Men remained present inside. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Jeryn's eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped to the floor.

Jean helped Lillandra get the new Princess into a sitting position. The flame haired telepath took the girl's face between her hands and reached deep into the unconscious mind. The monarch inquired anxiously, "Exhaustion?"

Dr. Gray nodded in confirmation. "Enough mind probes got through the bodyguards to strain her shields severely. She used up everything she had to reinforce them." The Professor came over to assist his student.

Lillandra stood up and said in relief, "It will take me almost an hour to summon and assemble the nobles of the council. Can you give her enough strength to get her through the council meeting?"

Xavier was already reaching for his protégé's mind, and meshed his powers with hers flawlessly. "Go. Do what you need to. We'll get her through the meeting." His wife laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it briefly in gratitude. Then she left the room to set the wheels in motion.

The Imperial Princess Jeryn awoke shortly, to find herself stretched ingloriously on the floor with her friends looking at her anxiously. Inner trembling clearly informed her that she had overspent her strength. She closed her eyes in response to a warm flood of energy and opened herself to it, sensing that Charles and Jean were the source. The trembling slowly melted away. After about 20 minutes she opened her eyes and held her arms out to her friends. Cyclops and Wolverine obligingly pulled her to her feet and steadied her while she found her balance.

"How did I do?" she asked her friends shakily.

Storm answered her lovingly. "You did just fine."

A shudder went through the teen as she shook off the last of the tremors. "I had no idea that so many people would be trying to get through to my mind. It was like a tidal wave of consciousness coming at me. I felt Vellan and the others stop most of it, but it was still enormous. It took everything I had to prevent anyone from getting through."

The Professor assured her with great pride, "You did better than anyone could have expected. You've never been exposed to the pressure of thousands of minds at once. I'm sure half the people out there wouldn't have been surprised if you'd collapsed right on the podium."

Jeryn shook her head ruefully, "Not a very inspiring beginning for the Imperial Heir." The X-Men chuckled. Scott and Logan assisted her to a chair, while Storm and Rogue pressed food and drink on her.

By the time Lillandra returned, Jeryn was in much better shape. Everyone saw the anxiety on the Majestrix' face when she entered the room – and the relief when the young Shi'ar hastily rose to her feet. The galactic ruler threw a look of gratitude at her friends, and pulled her sister into a brief embrace. "Ready?" The princess nodded in affirmation.

Jean spoke from the room's couch. Most of the strength given to the young Heir had come from her, and she'd needed to rest very badly after the transfer. "She won't last forever – two, maybe three hours. A bit more if she's not being constantly probed. Plan on her needing to sleep for a full day afterwards."

Lillandra looked at her younger sister in concern. "All the nobles will be probing her – discreetly, of course," she informed the doctor. Addressing Jeryn, she inquired anxiously, "Are you sure you'll be all right?"

Xavier moved his hoverlift towards the two women and said, "She'll be fine, Lillandra. Her bodyguards will intercept most of the probes – that'll be expected. Just cover the bare minimum that they need to know for now. Use her exhaustion as an excuse to cut things short if you have to. No one will be surprised by it in the least. Time enough to deal with the details later."

The Majestrix nodded in acknowledgement of her consort's advice and squeezed her little sister's shoulders in encouragement. "Well, then. Let's get this over with, so you can go rest." Jeryn took a deep breath and followed her monarch out the door to begin her imposture in truth.


	32. Machinations

As soon as everyone had taken their seats, Lillandra addressed the High Council. "My Lords, I beg your indulgence for not informing you of today's announcement in advance. My security advisors insisted on utmost secrecy as the most effective means of securing my sister's safety during the presentation."

Lord Marot, one of Lillandra's allies and supporters on the Council, forestalled any protest by standing without waiting for recognition by the throne. His face beamed with joy as he waved a hand in dismissal. "Completely understandable, Your Majesty, no apologies necessary. I'm sure all your nobles recognize the necessity." He switched his focus to the newcomer. "Princess, allow me to be the first to joyfully welcome you to Chandilar. All Shi'ar rejoice at your homecoming, and wish you a long and happy life among us." Approval swept the Council as Jeryn gracefully bent her head in acknowledgment of Lord Marot's words.

The Empress continued, "As I mentioned in my address, I have ordered the results of the gene scans which I performed on my sister to be made publicly available. I invite you all to review them to satisfy any questions you may have regarding my sister's paternity." She regarded the High Council members meaningfully. "You are all aware that my sister's homecoming raises many important issues. I will be requiring much work of you in the coming months to ensure that they are appropriately dealt with."

Lillandra was excruciatingly careful with her words. She knew very well that Jeryn's presence was going to ignite a feeding frenzy as Council members jockeyed for power and influence. The basis of the entire strategy that she, Charles, and Jeryn had worked out was to keep the nobles so occupied in their machinations against each other, that the Council would be agonizingly slow in actually _deciding_ anything as far as the new Imperial Princess was concerned.

The primary function of any ruler was to gain time. Time for the people to grow, in peace. Time to forge alliances. Time to undo her enemies. Every day that passed without a war breaking out was a victory, and cherished as such. Each member of the High Council would have their own agenda regarding the Imperial Princess. With just a little bit of luck, Lillandra could ensure that they all remained at deadlock for as long as need be. "I am counting on each of you to provide thoughtful guidance as we consider these issues. All possibilities must be considered. For the good of the Empire, we must make wise and careful choices in the days and months to come."

Their strategy was simple and beautiful. It was to be expected that Lillandra would delay her young sister's marriage as long as possible. In the game of empire, while the sharks focused on the bait they would forget about the fisherman. Usually the strongest shark would eventually eliminate the others and ally itself with the fisherman in return for the bait. There were a number of equally strong "sharks" among the Majestrix' councilors. The battle for supremacy, though subtle, would be a long one. What none of them knew was that the bait would never be awarded. It was their entire plan that the nobles focus on the prize – Jeryn – so much that they would stop pressuring Lillandra – who then might be able at last to conceive.

When the approbation died down a smooth voice made itself heard. Jeryn saw a man of about Lillandra's age stand. _Zaren_, she thought to herself, _one of __Deathbird's greatest supporters._ No hint of a change in expression crossed her face as Lord Zaren regarded her thoughtfully. "Majestrix, speaking of your sister's security, I insist that we must emplace a permanent bodyguard as soon as possible."

Jeryn saw through the protest immediately. _Clever. Probably trying to plant a mole among my guards, hoping he'll go unnoticed in the confusion around my arrival._

Lillandra answered smoothly, "That has already been taken care of, Lord Zaren. A full security detail has already been appointed her from among my own personal bodyguards."

If the man was disappointed, he didn't show it. "But Majestrix," he protested, "will that not leave your own person dangerously unprotected?"

The monarch waved a hand airily in dismissal. "Gladiator has assured me that he has ample staff for both details." Zaren had no choice but to acquiesce.

_Probably highly disappointed,_ Jeryn thought gleefully, _There's no way Gladiator would let a mole or assassin into Lillandra's bodyguard corps._

The Empress continued, making it obvious that the subject was closed. "My sister's homecoming is an answer to many prayers." She turned to the patriarch of the church, "Sai Tavis, may I request a formal service of thanksgiving of you and your brethren? Sharra and Ky'thri have blessed the Empire greatly by bringing Jeryn home, and we must fervently express our gratitude to them for keeping us in their care."

She was secretly gleeful as she made the request. The patriarch was a vehement opponent of her marriage to Xavier, though the man played politics well enough to keep his opinions on a short rein in the Majestrix' presence. Her vast network of spies had caught the man more than once in full rant against her choice of consort, though. It afforded her rare pleasure to watch the man choke on a request that any Shi'ar true to the church would naturally make. He acquiesced with as much grace as he could muster, and she thanked him graciously.

Lillandra turned to the Council, "I'm sure you all appreciate that my sister is somewhat overwhelmed by her homecoming. After having been alone for so long I am sure that today has been quite an ordeal for her. Let us allow her to rest tomorrow, and plan to hold our public ceremonies the day after. Sai Tavis can preside over the thanksgiving service at midday, and the Court can hold celebration afterwards."

There was a great deal of discussion after that, but the meat of the meeting was done. The Majestrix carefully and briefly touched the minds of half a dozen attendees during the animated chatter, issuing clandestine summons. She brought the briefing to a close shortly thereafter and retired with her new sister in tow. The imperials closeted themselves in a small private audience room where the Professor joined them, and waited for the summoned nobles to appear.

When the door to the majestrix' private audience room closed behind the last of them she called the meeting to order. "My lords, if you would, please." Five Council lords and a high cleric of the temple found themselves seats. "I've asked you here to address my younger sister's situation." She indicated Jeryn, who was seated at her right hand. "By right of primogeniture, my sister Deathbird takes precedence over Jeryn in the succession. You all realize that I cannot allow Deathbird to assume the throne." There was a murmur of agreement from the group.

Lord Marot spoke. "How do you plan to accomplish this, Majestrix? All of us," he waved a hand to indicate the assembled, "and any Shi'ar who knows your elder sister would support young Jeryn as Heir."

Lillandra nodded. "I realize that, my lord. Unfortunately, Deathbird would be quite within her rights to contest the appointment. As long as she avoids condemnation as a traitor to the throne she remains legally ahead of Jeryn. The only possible outcome of a public appointment would be civil war."

Lord Haldon unhappily asked, "Then what would you have us do, Majestrix?"

The Shi'ar matriarch leaned forward in her chair. "Legally, the only individual with a claim to the throne superior to Deathbird's is a legitimate child of my body. Therefore, the public and official Imperial position will remain the same as before – that the Throne will go to my firstborn."

The nobles were in agreement but they were uncomfortable, and she knew why. It was time to bring the issue out into the open at last, as part of the plan that she, Charles, and Jeryn had created. "I realize that this public position perpetuates a difficult problem – the objection of the Shi'ar to my liaison with Lord Xavier, and their refusal to be ruled by any but a pure-blood Neramani Shi'ar."

Though the loyal six were long familiar with the situation they were still taken aback at Lillandra's bald acknowledgment of it. They were to be further shocked. She bowed her head in unfeigned grief. To acknowledge defeat even in pretense seemed to bring the real loss closer. "I must inform you that I have reluctantly come to the conclusion that no such heir of my body will be forthcoming." Charles closed his eyes at the statement, apparently masking grief. Jeryn touched her sister's shoulder in sympathy.

Lillandra covered the hand with her own in gratitude at the support. "Lord Xavier remains my chosen consort; I will not abandon my vows to him. I will never take another. To you, gentlemen, I confirm what the Empire will assume and for her sake must not yet know; my sister Jeryn is my chosen Heir."

A complex mix of emotions surged against Jeryn's shields: relief, despair, compassion, disappointment, even pain. She spoke to Lillandra with distress clear in her voice. "Sister, I do not wish to usurp _anyone's_ place. I didn't come back because I wanted the Empire. I don't _want_ the Empire! All I wanted was to find my family…." Tears rolled down her face, accompanying the plea.

Lord Marot stepped forward. The grief he felt was plain to see – he respected Xavier, and had been a silent supporter of their match for years. "Regretfully, Your Highness, the gods seem to have other plans for you."


	33. Clever

The room went quiet with respect for a few moments, while Lillandra made a show of pulling herself together. She looked up and patted the hand that Jeryn had laid on her arm, giving the girl a tremulous smile in understanding. One of the six nobles cleared his throat uncomfortably, and the Majestrix queried, "Lord Tarril?"

A thin, youngish Shi'ar with blue-grey feathers stepped forward. "My apologies, Majestrix, but I must point out that only a legal declaration from you would enable your younger sister to take the Heir's place."

Lillandra addressed the issue directly, stating "Which is exactly why I requested my personal priest's presence at this meeting." All heads turned to regard the cleric, who stepped forward. "Majestrix?"

Lillandra looked at the priest "Sai Reine, I fear that I must ask you to make a difficult choice. Your loyalty to our gods and to Our throne is without question. Unfortunately, the vows which made you a priest also put upon you an obligation of obedience to your ecclesiastical superiors. You are well aware that those superiors are – shall we say – committed to interests other than Church and Crown." The nobles and the priest chuckled. She smiled and continued, "Our laws state that the Heir's anointing must be done by a priest of Sharra and Ky'thri. But they do not state that it must be done by the _high_ priest."

The eyes of the nobles went wide as they absorbed the implications of the statement. The Majestrix looked directly at the cleric. "I must ask; which of your oaths do you honor most? Are you willing to administer the Heir's Oath to my sister here and now, and _not_ inform your superiors?" If she hadn't been absolutely sure of the man she wouldn't even have invited him to the meeting, _Still, one never knows until the test arrives..._

To everyone's relief the holy man smiled and bowed deeply to Lillandra. "My loyalty to Sharra and Ky'thri overrides all others, my Empress. To my mind, They have made Their wishes plain in this matter." Reine bowed reverently to Jeryn in unspoken acknowledgment of her god-patterned wings. "I have no difficulty whatsoever keeping these proceedings from the attention of my colleagues."

Lillandra motioned to Jeryn for her to stand. The Imperial ruler gestured to Gladiator, who brought a wrapped article to his sovereign. She took it from him and unwrapped it to reveal the coronet of the Imperial Heir. The priest gestured to the others, and they responded by encircling the royals to witness the exchange of vows. At Lillandra's instruction, Cat went to her knees in front of the priest and bowed her head.

He laid his consecrated hands upon the princess' crest feathers. "Sharra and Ky'thri, we invoke your blessing upon this woman, Jeryn of Clan Neramani. Consecrate her to the office of her blood, the office which You did bestow upon Neramani himself long ago." He took the coronet of the Heir from Lillandra's hands, and held it above the teen's head. "With this coronet, sanctify Thy servant Jeryn, Most Holy Ones. Let her take her place at the right hand of Thy beloved daughter Lillandra, Majestrix of the Shi'ar, to follow in her footsteps at the time You appoint. Let Thy will be done."

He reverently placed the coronet on the mutant's head, and then took her hands to lift her up. He turned the princess about to face the majestrix, and directed her to kneel with a hand on her shoulder. Unprompted, Jeryn joined her hands and presented them to her sovereign. "I, Jeryn, of the line Neramani, do pledge my loyalty, my life, my service, and my honor to the sovereign ruler of the Shi'ar, my beloved sister, the Imperial Majestrix Lillandra."

Lillandra proudly replied "And this do I, Lillandra, Imperial Majestrix of the Shi'ar, pledge in return: to repay honor with honor, justice for truth, and loyalty with loyalty. Before our gods Sharra and Ky'thri and these assembled witnesses I do accept, declare and appoint my sister Jeryn to the position of Imperial Heir." The nobles cheered as the two women exchanged a formal kiss of peace.

Each of the nobles came forward in turn, to pledge their loyalty to Jeryn as Imperial Heir. When all of them had done so, she removed the coronet and returned it to Gladiator. He re-wrapped it reverently as everyone watched. The Majestrix set a hand on her Heir's shoulder in approval when he was done.

Lord Marot queried, "And now, Majestrix?" She turned to face her ally. "Now, my long-lost sister has a great deal to learn, having grown up far away from Chandilar. I shall of course, keep her at my side to protect her from the unscrupulous," she stated dryly. "As a Neramani, she must be trained in statecraft, which is best learned directly from the Imperial ruler. It is an unfortunate fact that natural lines of succession are disrupted as often as not," she added grimly.

The loyal six concurred; between the loss of Lillandra's parents, the madness of her brother D'ken, Deathbird's abdication, and her own inability to bear an heir, disruption had been much more the rule than the exception of late. No noble of the Shi'ar would see anything odd in the Majestrix keeping her newfound sibling close by her side. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Lord Fane advised his ruler grimly, "Best be sure that self-defense is highest on that list of subjects to learn, Your Grace."

Lillandra agreed wholeheartedly. "Self-defense, weapons training, statecraft at my side. No classrooms for you for some time, little one," she told her sister fondly.

Marot interjected, "She should see your physician as soon as possible, Majestrix," he said with concern. "We," he indicated the nobles, "are inured to common biologicals and poisons, but your sister is not. A single contaminated cup would spell ruin for all of us."

She concurred immediately. "Gladiator, see to it. I want my personal physician to see Jeryn today. All her food and drink is to come from my own table until then."

Fane stirred uncomfortably. Lillandra recognized the characteristic fidgeting of a man who wanted to say something and was less than certain of how it would be received. She had a likely notion of what it was, and called him on it. "You have something to add, my lord?"

Everyone looked to the noble, who had no choice but to respond. "Your Grace, I beg your pardon if this seems precipitous – and yours as well, Highness," he hastily added with a bow to Jeryn, "but I feel obliged to comment on the fact that as your Heir is obviously of age, it would be prudent to begin discussing potential candidates for marriage." Jeryn – as expected – was shocked. She and the Majestrix both detected the undercurrent of eagerness and agreement – all five of the loyal nobles had sons eligible for the position.

Lillandra put her hand on her sister's shoulder and spoke firmly. "You are correct on both counts, my lord. It would be prudent, and it is also precipitous. I will countenance no marriage discussion before my sister is fully trained and prepared to rule. Her marriage is a bargaining chip that must be spent most carefully, and I see no need to spend it in the immediate future. In fact, the longer that expense can be delayed, the better. The Empire will be much quieter, as the hopeful will moderate their trouble making in their efforts to be chosen." That clearly told her nobles which way the wind was blowing. _Now to pacify them,_ Lillandra continued, "Of course, I have no objections to introducing her to the various candidates. She must obviously become familiar with them. But I will have it understood that marriage is not in her immediate future."

Fane relaxed, relieved. "A most wise decision, Your Grace."

The Imperials took their leave. The nobles clustered around Marot after the door had closed. They started chattering excitedly, eager to be heard. "Do you think the girl really **is** the Majestrix' sister?" "What if she isn't?" "Could she be a clone?" "Is it possible that she's a bastard of D'Ken's?" "Those wing markings!" "Could the gods **really** have sent her to us?" "Is she another line-founder, like Neramani himself?"

Marot held up his hands to get everyone's attention. "My lords, please!" When they had all quieted down, he spoke. "The Majestrix obviously wants the girl accepted as her legitimate younger sister. The gene scan confirms that she's a Neramani. What does it matter if she's a true daughter of Lillandra's parents, or a by-blow of D'ken's? We have a true Neramani heir. I guarantee you that the other nobles will find the girl a more palatable successor to Lillandra than Deathbird, regardless of her origin."

Lord Fane spoke up grimly. "Or, Sharra and Ky'thri forgive us, a child of the Majestrix and her consort."

Marot nodded. "Even so. Though I myself hold Lord Xavier in high regard (a couple of the others squirmed uncomfortably), it does not change the fact that he is not an acceptable consort to the vast majority of the Shi'ar. It is that majority that we must keep pacified if the Empire is to be at peace. Princess Jeryn is acceptable to the Majestrix, most of the nobles, the blood-purists, most of the royalists…"

Sai Reine interrupted him to add meaningfully, "And the religious."

Marot agreed heartily. "Princess Jeryn has the potential to unite the Shi'ar as we have not been since Neramani himself flew the skies of Aerie. Her loyalty gives Lillandra an unshakable grasp on the Empire. And we have all seen for ourselves that the Majestrix wants only peace for our people. If the girl can achieve that for her, then we owe the Empress our full support regardless of all else."

The youngest member of their group saw the cleric's eyes go wide, and called him on it. "Sai Reine? Are you all right?"

The others looked to the priest for an explanation. The Shi'ar gazed at the nobles in wonder. "My Lords, I have just had the most amazing thought. Given young Jeryn's wing markings – do you think that Sharra and Ky'thri themselves might not have steered the Majestrix to Lord Xavier deliberately? If They intended the young Princess to be the Empress' heir…." The implications were shocking.

Marot completed the theory. "Then They might well have steered Her Grace's heart to a consort incapable of providing her with an heir to the throne, to ensure that Princess Jeryn would be the only successor."

Reine agreed, and regarded the other nobles sternly. "Which means, my lords, that the Majestrix has only been obeying the will of the gods in espousing Lord Xavier." They were all stunned by how neatly the priest's theory fit the situation.

The elder statesman considered it carefully, examining the potential consequences and advantages. "Presented appropriately, this could appease a significant portion of the populace. If the people were to believe that the Empress was simply obeying the gods by wedding Xavier so that the Princess Jeryn could inherit undisputed…"

Fane concluded, "There would much less animosity towards their union. Lord Xavier would be much safer. The pressure on the Majestrix would lessen considerably. And the Empire would be that much more stable."

Marot agreed. "Even if this is not in fact the case, the possibility alone will be enough to make a positive difference. Sai Reine, may I ask you to discreetly begin spreading this theory among your brethren? Do not compromise yourself in any way – we need you as our eyes and ears in the Church too much to risk your position. But we must take as much advantage of your wisdom as possible."

The priest bowed agreement to the senior statesman. "Have no fear, Lord Marot. I have many contacts across the Empire. I think it will be most effective if this theory is seen to originate at the ground level. I will send discreet missives to every colony and outpost. The priesthood must make some statement regarding the Princess soon, in any case. Let us quietly influence that message as much as we may. With the Gods' help, we could achieve much in the way of peace if we are successful."


End file.
